


Broken Body and Souls

by Kaylathebookworm



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Time Travel Fix-It, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaylathebookworm/pseuds/Kaylathebookworm
Summary: AU where starting in V7 before Chapter 6, Oscar goes on a mission with QRWBYJNR and Ace-Ops, and gets kidnapped by Salem. Torture ensues, Oscar unlocks his semblance, and ends up back in time, before the Fall of Beacon. Armed with knowledge of the future, can Oscar and friends stop Salem before the end?this fic is discontinued, and is being rewritten under the title And We'll Rewrite these Broken Songs
Comments: 148
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So most of the first 6 chapters are pretty gruesome and torture-y. If you want to skip to the time travel parts of the story, I would recommend starting at chapter 7. Sorry about that!

Oscar walked at the back of the group on their way back to the trucks, keeping to himself. The mission had been a success, and the mines had been cleared of grim, but Oscar hadn’t done all that much. He mostly just watched as the Ace-Ops, professional huntsmen and huntresses, worked. He got in a couple hits of his own, but nothing major. He sighed, wishing he could be more of a help.

Yang must have noticed Oscar walking by himself, because she dropped to the back of the pack to walk along with him.  
“Wasn’t that amazing?” she asked, “We got to see real huntsmen and huntresses in action!” she exclaimed, hopping and pumping her fist in the air with excitement.

“Yeah,” Oscar said sheepishly, looking down at his feet, “I just felt pretty useless though.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but so did I,” Yang whispered, with a conspiratorial wink.

Oscar smiled at that, feeling relieved that, at least, he wasn’t the only one who doubted themselves, and his more experienced friends did, too.

“Wait!” shouted Clover from the front of the group, leading to an abrupt stop, nearly causing Oscar to crash into Nora in front of him. “Something’s wrong,” he continued, wearily glancing at the sky behind them.

Oscar looked in that direction, but he didn’t see anything but clouds. After a second, he noticed a large flock of birds in the distance, flying in a V-formation, but he was puzzled, not understanding why that would be a cause for concern.

The flock was flying awfully fast, and within moments, were close enough for Oscar to see that they weren’t birds at all, but some strange type of grim, that he had never encountered before.

He heard the click of weapons being loaded, and he grabbed his cane, extending it, and hoped that the flock would just keep flying, that they wouldn’t have to worry about it.  
Of course, he could never be that lucky.

The first Grimm to approach let out a screech that made Oscar wince, and dove, getting way too close, way too fast. Oscar took a step back, bringing his cane in front of him, and dreading trying to fight this thing with a glorified stick. It looked like a monkey, with wings, and sharp claws, and it was huge, easily large enough to carry someone off.  
Several gunshots went off behind him, but it just made the grim look mildly annoyed. Next to him, Yang fired off a couple of shots from her gauntlets, striking it in the face, and drawing its attention. She ducked as it came at her with its claws, and Oscar ran in to aid in any way he could.

Before he could get a hit in, though, Harriet, from the Ace-Ops, was there, striking, and Elm catapulted herself over Oscar’s head, bringing her hammer down on the creature’s head. It scattered into dust, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Until the next creature came. And the next. And the next.

Too soon, they were all on top of them, too many to fight. Oscar struck again and again with his weapon, and noticed that he had ended up next to Ruby. She shot again and again at the Grimm, and when they got too close, she tore through them with her scythe. He was glad she was at his side.

Another grim came at Oscar, claws extended, and he dove out of the way, rolling when he hit the ground. He jabbed it in the face with the end of his weapon, and then began beating it in any way he could, keeping it at bay. He smiled to himself, losing himself in the thrill of battle.

He heard Ruby call his name just as the grim turned to dust, and started to turn, just in time to feel claws slam into him, and wrap around his arms. He felt his feet leave the ground and he gasped, struggling to get away from the grasp of the creature. He heard a myriad of gunshots and it dropped him. He slammed into the ground, the wind knocked out of him, and slowly struggled to his feet.

“Are you okay?” asked Ruby, helping him up.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, shakily, “just watch out.”

Ruby nodded and returned to fighting, shooting at the mass of grim that just kept coming.

Oscar didn’t know how it was possible for there to be so many Grimm at once. He had never seen this many before. He looked around, and everyone was still fighting, but they appeared to be tiring. He saw Jaune fall to his knees, and Marrow ran in front of him, shielding him from another attack. Ruby was out of breath, and her attacks were slowing. Oscar kept hitting any grim he could, but he knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. If the horde didn’t let up, they would have to find a way to get to safety.  
The trucks were so close, and he began trying to back towards them.

“Everyone!” shouted Clover, “Get to safety! We can’t keep fighting!”

All the assembled hunters seemed in agreement, and they each began to move in that direction, still fighting and struggling against the never-ending tide of grim.  
There was a break in the attack, and Oscar grabbed Ruby’s arm and ran. It seemed everyone else had the same idea, the ones with guns still firing off shots as they dashed towards the heavily armored trucks.

Oscar was less than 10 feet from shelter when the second hoard descended. He could see the horrified faces of his peers, and hear as they called encouragement for him to run faster, when he was suddenly surrounded by claws, and wings, and teeth. Once again, he was in the air, being carried away by a creature of darkness.  
“No,” came his horrified whisper, as he struggled against the claws holding him. Gunshots fired, as his friends tried to save him, to no avail. He lost his hold on his weapon trying to jab the creature with it, and he watched it fall, along with his hopes of rescue, as he ascended farther into the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

The Grimm had been carrying Oscar for hours. He was freezing, and shivering nonstop up by the low-hanging clouds, way above the snow-covered forests. There was no hope of rescue, and he had no idea where he was being taken. Probably to be a meal for these damned creatures. He shouted in frustration and tried to pull out of the creature’s grip, but he couldn’t. Oscar's shoulders screamed in agony from the sharpness of its claws, but they didn't budge. He had hoped that they might, that falling to his death might be a little less painful than whatever awaited him. He felt tears streak down his frozen face as a sob was torn from his throat, resigned that this would be the end.

“ _Oscar_ ,” whispered a voice in his head.

“Ozpin?” he asked, “Are you there? Please don’t leave me,” he sobbed.

“ _I’m here_ ,” Ozpin said, “ _and don’t worry, I won’t leave you. Not now, and never again. I will always be by your side, and I will be here until the end_.”

“Thank you, Ozpin. Please don’t let me be eaten.” Ozpin let out a dark chuckle, tinged with sadness, “ _You don’t need to fear being eaten, my boy. Our fate is going to be much worse. We’re being taken to Salem. I’m so sorry, but I promise I won’t leave you_.”

Oscar froze, and felt the hope Ozpin’s return had granted him slip away. He was being taken to the Queen of the Grimm. He didn’t want to know what was in store for him. Perhaps his death would be quick, but, deep down, he knew that wouldn’t be the case.

********************

He didn’t know how much time had passed, imagining the terrible fate awaiting him, but eventually, they weren’t in Atlas anymore. They had passed, somehow, into the dark, creepy hellscape that was home to the Grimm. The sky was red, and the ground was covered in dark pools of something, and the occasional dead tree. There were Grimm everywhere, and, in the distance, a giant black castle.

The creature carrying him was headed towards the castle.

In his head, Oscar felt Ozpin flinch at the sight of it, and he was shown flashes of memory; of giant, dark hallways, and opulent rooms, and four little girls-

He was brought back to the nightmarish present with a start, and suddenly, the distant castle was much closer than before. He felt his chest tighten, and the creature carrying him dove toward it, dropping him on a balcony. He landed in a painful heap, and whimpered as his arms were released from their prison. He couldn’t feel them at all, and he was sure he twisted his ankle when he was dropped. He saw the shadows of the Grimm horde pass overhead, but he had a much bigger problem now. Salem, master of Grimm, was standing in front of him, with a smirk on her face, and chains in her hands.

“Welcome home, my love,” she purred, her red and black eyes gleaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beta reader lifelongpotterhead!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Oscar found himself frozen from fear and cold as Salem approached, slowly stalking towards him. He couldn’t move. She was terrifying, and radiated cruelty. Her expression was predatory, the cat to the mouse.

“Tyrian,” she called, “chain the boy.”

Tyrian stepped out of the shadows from behind his mistress, a deranged smile on his face. He took the chains from Salem and strode towards Oscar, his tail swaying, his whole demeanor one of pure glee. He bound Oscar’s hands behind his back, and then chained his ankles together. Oscar couldn’t bring himself to move, wincing as the cold chains bound his limbs. Tyrian let out a terrifying laugh and Oscar flinched, but there was nowhere for him to go. His knees buckled underneath him. He did his best to curl into a ball on the ground, to escape the reality he found himself in.

Salem grabbed Oscar under the chin and tilted his face up to hers, her sharp black nails digging into his face.

“Look at me,” she whispered.

He raised his eyes, slowly, and met hers. They were black where they should have been white, and burned red where the irises should have been. Oscar shuddered and looked away.

“Aw, Ozma, you’re just a child,” she taunted, her saccharine voice dripping with malice. “We’re going to be together for a very long time.”

She dropped his chin and hissed, “Grab him.”

Oscar didn’t know who they were, but he felt people grabbing his arms, and grunted as they started to drag him. He tried to get to his feet but couldn’t, not while his ankles were bound and his captors were moving too quickly for him to keep up. Salem didn’t follow.

He found himself being pulled down a maze of hallways, and quickly lost track of where the exit was through the labyrinth of halls. They approached a spiral set of stairs and began to descend.

Each step was painful, and Oscar found that his shins and knees kept hitting the stone stairs as they went down. He silently mouthed curses all the way down, but tried to keep quiet, to avoid the wrath of his captors.

The stairs seemed to be unending, and his knees were beginning to bloody from the way that they were carrying him. It burned, but Oscar knew that it would pale in comparison to what was to come. He didn’t know how far they were going, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, either. The stairwell was dark, but there were occasional spots of light, which he guessed were torches, but he didn’t look up to confirm his assumption.

After what he was sure was an eternity, the people carrying him stopped. He heard a metallic creak and felt himself unceremoniously thrown to the floor.

He landed hard on his left shoulder, and turned to look behind him just as a boy with silver hair slammed the door to his cell with a smirk. “Don’t worry Ozpin, you won’t be alone for long,” he said as he locked the door and handed the key to Tyrian.

The two stalked away and left him alone, crumpled on the floor of his dark cell.


	4. Chapter 4

Oscar awoke from his uneasy and uncomfortable doze to heeled footsteps, and found himself temporarily confused by his surroundings. He wasn’t in his bunk at Atlas academy, but rather, in a dark and cold cell in the dungeons of Salem’s castle. He was immediately overcome by despair, but didn’t have time to dwell on it, because a figure was approaching the door of his cell.

“Well,” drawled Cinder, “you certainly came back faster than expected since I killed you, Oz.”

“Uh, I guess?” came Oscar’s eloquent response, “are you here to kill me again?”

“Oh no,” she crooned, “I’m here to have some fun. Salem said I could go first,” she finished, a smirk on her face.

Another pair of footsteps sounded from the stairs.

“I believe you’re familiar with Arthur Watts,” Cinder remarked, “he’s here to keep you alive.”

Behind her, Arthur leaned against the wall, folding his arms, “I trust you’ll be making my job difficult, Cinder.”

“You know I will,” she said, producing a key from her pocket.

As she turned back to him, Oscar tried to push himself back into the corner farthest from her, proved difficult by the chains wrapped around him.

His breath caught as she stalked towards him, a predatory look on her face.

“Aw, you look terrified, little boy,” she said, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him to the center of the cell. “You know, maybe this kind of work requires… a bit more light, “ she grinned, as her eye became wreathed in flame, and a ball of fire appeared in her hand.

Oscar made an undignified squeaking sound and tried to pull away from her, to no avail. His breath became to come more rapidly as she kneeled, straddling his waist and leaning over him, spinning her fireball as she did so. His wide-eyed gaze locked on the rotating ball of fire as he watched it come closer to him.

“ _ Oscar, I’m going to take over now,”  _ came Ozpin’s voice, “ _ I will do everything in my power to make sure you aren’t the one being subjected to torture _ .”

Oscar tried to protest as Ozpin took his body from his control and found himself cast aside.

“Ozpin, no,” he whispered, shocked.

He found himself frozen in his own mind, too horrified and filled with fear to sequester himself away. He watched from a distance as Cinder smirked at the reemergence of her old foe.

“Trying to protect him, Ozpin? How cute,” she remarked, bringing her flaming hand to run alongside his face.

Oscar watched Ozpin flinch away, and felt a phantom heat on his face. He knew he should hide, and avoid feeling as much pain as possible, but he couldn’t make himself do it. He sobbed as he watched Cinder brutally slam her hand, full of flame, into Ozpin’s left shoulder. Ozpin let out a cry of pain, which he tried and failed to suppress.

Cinder grinned wickedly, happy to watch him writhe in pain. “It’s been a while since you’ve been through this, huh?” she mocked.

From his dissociated state, Oscar could hear the sizzle of flesh, and found himself shaking. He had never seen torture, or even death, in his short time as a huntsman. He would’ve vomited, but that wasn’t an option for him in his current state, so he found himself whimpering instead.

“ _ I know this is awful, and I’m sorry that you have to see this, _ ” Ozpin thought to him through his haze of pain, “ _ but one day, this will be over. We’ll get there, eventually. You just have to hold on to the light.” _

Ozpin’s inspirational speech was interrupted as Cinder traced her palm along Ozpin’s chest and side, leaving less severe burns all along his torso. Ozpin’s face was contorted into a grimace, and involuntary whimpers kept leaving him.

Cinder’s laugh was vicious, and she leaned forward onto the burns she had given him, digging her elbow into his shoulder, where her handprint blackened his clothing. “Having fun, Ozpin?” she asked, as he groaned in agony. “I’m very excited to tell you that I have as much time as I please to play with you,” she continued, “we could be here all day!”

Oscar found her giddy mood almost more horrifying than what she was doing to his body. He didn’t think anyone could be that enthusiastic about torture.

“That may be, Cinder, but if you stay here all day you’ll probably kill him,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes, “and we can’t have that, now, can we?”

“Oh hush. Let me enjoy this,” she retorted.

Slowly, dragging the process out for dramatic effect, she moved her hand back up towards Ozpin’s face. She let her hand rest on his cheek, and he cried out in pain. She traced her fingertips along the edge of his eye with a laugh, but relented, and removed her hand. Ozpin’s breathing turned harsh, and he shuddered, pressing against the floor in a futile and desperate attempt to avoid further pain. 

Cinder noticed his squirming, and slowly dragged her hand down his arm, melting his sleeve and leaving harsh burns behind. The longer she spent on each spot, the more whimpers were elicited from Ozpin.

“You’re weak,” she whispered into his ear, “you always have been. And you always will be. I am so much more powerful than you.”

Suddenly, she stood and extinguished her flame, and Ozpin sighed in relief. In the absence of light, the cell grew much darker, and his eyes had difficulty adjusting, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t actively burning him anymore.

His momentary relaxation disappeared when he realized she hadn’t left. She was still standing over him, watching. She wasn’t done having her fun yet. Ozpin let out a muffled sob as she gave him a wide smile, before suddenly shooting a column of flame at him. Ozpin screamed as it hit him in his right thigh, and then spread, encompassing his entire leg, before it disappeared. 

He felt himself overcome by pain, and began to lose touch with reality. Everything was becoming fuzzy, and his entire world was filled with pain. He gasped for breath, and everything burned. Distantly, he heard mutterings of ‘shock’ before the world faded away, and he fell into the darkness.

“Ozpin?” Oscar whispered, “Are you alright? Please rest. I can take over.”

Ozpin mumbled something incoherent and Oscar found himself alone. He took the opening, and returned to his body, immediately falling into a state of half-consciousness. 

When he opened his eyes again, he was somewhere else. From what he could tell, he was in some sort of medical facility, and Watts was standing over him, doing something or other to prevent him from dying. Dimly, Oscar registered this fact, and then slid back into sleep, hoping his aura would heal him, and that he wouldn’t be covered in excruciating burns when he woke up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to add this next chapter now that Oscar's been canonically kidnapped... and don't worry, chapter 5 is already in the works!


	5. Chapter 5

Unfortunately, he could never be that lucky. Oscar opened his eyes and every part of him hurt. He had bandages on his leg, his arm, and his torso, and he suspected on his face as well, but he couldn’t see them, and he didn’t care to check.

He groaned as he shifted. At least his arms weren’t bound behind his back anymore. His ankles were still bound, but they must have assumed that he was too injured to need to be fully chained. They were right.

A sob escaped his throat when he realized that this was going to be the rest of his life. Every day would be nothing but excruciating pain and misery. He wished he could die instead, but they would never let him. He simply had to carry on, suffering forever.

He took this moment of respite to assess his condition, and realized he was starving. He was desperately thirsty too. His throat was parched and it still burned to breathe. He noticed a small bowl of water had been placed by the door of his cell while he was unconscious, and he painstakingly crawled over to it. Every movement was miserable and painful, but he needed water.

Gasping, he reached the bowl, and proceeded to gulp most of it down at once.

He cursed, realizing he should have saved more of it, and that he would probably need it later. They wouldn’t let him die of dehydration, but they certainly wouldn’t give him enough water to be anywhere in the vicinity of comfortable.

Slowly, making sure he didn’t spill any of his remaining water, he crawled back to his corner, nestling the liquid as far from the entrance as he could. It wouldn’t surprise him if one of his captors dumped it out in a fit of sadism, so he tried to covet it to the best of his ability.

He looked up as he heard a person descending the stairs, and glared with everything he had at the silhouette of Salem.

“I hope you appreciated your  _ warm  _ welcome,” she purred, grinning at her joke.

“I did not,” replied Oscar, still glaring at her.

She shrugged gracefully. “No matter,” she said, “we can have some more fun today.”

“Mercury,” she said, looking over her shoulder and beckoning to someone Oscar hadn’t seen.

The silver-haired boy approached the door to his cell, a bored look on his face and a dead look in his eyes. Oscar grimaced when he noticed that Mercury was holding a whip in his hands.

“I want to hear him scream,” Salem said as she produced a key and unlocked the door to hic cell.

Mercury entered, striding towards Oscar. Oscar shrank back, but found himself confused by the look on Mercury’s face. He looked torn, like he had no desire to be in this place. But the look was gone as soon as it had appeared, replaced with a grim sort of determination. There would be no mercy here, he knew. Especially not with Salem watching.

Mercury grabbed Oscar and threw him onto his stomach, ignoring his sharp intake of breath as the movement aggravated his already numerous injuries. Oscar turned his face to try to see his soon-to-be tormenter, and felt a wave of panic rush though him as Mercury pulled out a knife.

He leaned down, and promptly sliced the back of Oscar’s outfit, leaving his skin exposed and his clothes ruined. He then sliced through the bandages wrapped around his torso, rendering them useless.

Oscar spared a glance at Salem, who looked incredibly pleased. “Go on,” she murmured. “I can’t wait to watch him suffer.”

Oscar braced himself and turned away as the whip was raised, and tried to prepare himself for what was to come.

He realized that he never could prepare himself for this when the whip came down on his back with a sharp, burning pain that ran from his shoulder to the small of his back. He tried and failed to suppress his scream of pain, which came out as a screech. Then the whip came down again.

And again.

And again.

He quickly lost count of how many times he was struck, too concerned with the agony of his raw flesh. His back felt wet with blood, and he wasn’t sure there was any skin left to speak of. It could have been minutes, or hours. He was dimly aware that he was still in his cell, that Salem was right there, but he quickly found himself lost in a haze of pain. His throat burned, raw from screaming.

He knew he was shaking, desperately trying to curl into a ball to escape the lashes, but to no avail. The slicing, miserable pains just didn’t stop. This was his life now. He wasn’t sure it would ever end.

When Mercury finally relented, Oscar was laying in a pool of his own blood. His breathing was shallow, and he was certain the pain was going to kill him. There were tears in his eyes, and he was certain the skin was gone from his back entirely.

“Good job, Mercury,” purred Salem, “this is what I like to see.”

With that, they both turned and left, and Oscar was alone.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard another set of footsteps.

“Please kill me,” he moaned. “ _ Please _ .”

“I think not,” replied Watts. “I am simply here to prevent your death. And, of course, to have some fun of my own,” he smirked.

“What-” started Oscar, before he cut himself off. He decided asking questions wouldn’t get him anywhere. Watts walked over to his cell and unlocked the door, far too much swagger in his step for Oscar’s comfort.

“Did you really think I would make this easy for you?” Arthur mocked. “I’m not here because I have no choice, I revel in pain as much as my colleagues.” 

Oscar tried to sink into the floor but failed, and tried to convince himself that everything would be okay.

Of course everything wouldn’t be okay.

Before Oscar could move, Arthur had planted a foot on his back, pressing down and aggravating his numerous wounds. He sobbed, the pain more excruciating than he was sure he could stand. Somehow, he remained conscious, and found himself whimpering in relief as Watts removed his foot, only to gasp as it was kicked into his side.

His ribs were the next target, then his neck, and his face. Oscar curled into a ball to avoid the flurry of kicks, which caused the wounds on his back to stretch and split. He moaned with each impact, and found himself wishing he was anywhere but this dungeon. He should never have left his Aunt’s farm. He should never have wished for an adventure, he should have ignored the voice in his head.

Eventually, he stopped being beaten, and he pressed his face to the cool floor, only to have Watts’ foot collide one last time with the side of his head, knocking him into blissful unconsciousness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long! I got a little busy with school. Also, the finale killed me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter is pretty gory, and very violent. The time travel starts at the end of this chapter!!! :D I'm super excited! Also I'm not dead sorry for not updating for like 9 months whoopsie daisy!! At least this chapter is (comparatively) pretty long!

When Oscar opened his eyes, he immediately regretted it. He was still in a cell, in Salem’s castle, in a hellish nightmare that would never end. He prayed that it would end soon, but there were no gods left in this world. No one would ever hear his prayers, no one would come to save him. He tried to close his eyes, to fall back asleep, because it’s not like there was anything else for him to do, not like there was any way to alleviate the horrible pain he was in, other than to simply stop being present in this miserable reality. It didn’t work, he was unfortunately conscious, and it appeared as though he would remain so for the foreseeable future. 

He sighed, groaning in pain, his whole body aching. 

“Oz?” he asked, “Are you there?”

“ _ Of course _ ,” he responded.

“What do I do now?” Oscar asked.

“ _ All we can do now, I think, is to just hold on. _ ”

Oscar whimpered and slumped lower against the wall. he wasn’t the best at holding conversations even in the best of times, and he didn’t exactly have anything to talk about at the moment. He didn’t want to think about his situation anymore.

“Do you have any stories you can tell me?”

_ “Sure. Did I ever tell you about the initiation process at Beacon?”  _ he asked.

“Um, no, I don’t think you did.”

“ _ Well,” _ he grinned, _ “it’s a pretty funny story.” _

*****

As Ozpin talked, Oscar found himself giggling, despite himself.

“You launched them off a  _ cliff _ ?” he asked, incredulous. 

“ _ Maybe,” _ Oz responded slyly. “ _ But the students weren’t in any danger. The professors would have stepped in if anything were about to happen. To tell you the truth, messing with the students was one of my favorite parts of being the headmaster of a school.” _

Oscar smiled, losing himself in his imagination, daydreaming about being a headmaster of a school, pulling pranks on students. He found himself in a much better mood than he had been earlier, and was thankful that he wasn’t.

Soon, too soon, his lightermood was interrupted with the sound of footsteps. He groaned, trying to brace himself for whatever was to come next. Hopefully, it was someone bringing him food or water. Not that that was all too likely. Maybe Salem or one of her lackeys would just be coming to gloat. Maybe there would be no pain today. After all, they had a lifetime to inflict pain on him, and from what he could tell, Salem was a patient woman. It’s not like they had to make him suffer all at once.

He was jolted out of his optimism at an ominous scraping sound accompanying the steps. The person walked slowly, and it sounded like they were dragging metal along the wall. Oscar’s heartbeat spiked, and his breathing came faster. They were trying to intimidate him, and it was, unfortunately, working.. He would never win any kind of fight against these people. 

“Oz?” he whispered.

_ “I’m still here. Do you want me to take over?” _

“No. Not yet.”

The slow footsteps were torturous to listen to, and he found himself wishing, stupidly, that his tormentor would hurry up and get it over with. He was sure he would be regretting that wish soon enough.

A hunched shadow appeared in the stairwell, jumping with the dancing flames of a torch. A manic giggling rang out, and Oscar flinched, hoping it wasn’t who he thought it was.

Of course, his luck had long since run out.

Tyrian, Oscar thought he was called, appeared in the dungeon, a gleeful smile on his face. Oscar’s gaze was drawn to the belt at his waist, which contained several knives. 

He was suffocating, his airway closing, his lungs being squeezed by an invisible force as he attempted to press himself farther into the wall. He could feel himself shaking, and his vision was going a little blurry.

“ _ Oscar. Oscar, stay with me. You’re having a panic attack. I need you to breathe with me. In, and out. In, and out.” _

Oscar followed Oz’s instructions, trying to get his panic under control. He didn’t want to make this worse than it already promised to be.

_ “I’m going to take over. I won’t let you go through this.” _

Oscar complied, and let himself slip into the background. He didn’t want to let Oz suffer, but he was too afraid to properly fight him on this, still shaky from his panic.  _ Besides _ , he rationalized _ , this way I can swoop back in and help if it gets to be too much _ .

Vaguely, he was aware that Tyrian had patiently watched this whole exchange, eyes alight with a horrible interest. 

“Ohohoh, what do we have here?” Tyrian asked, an excited lilt in his voice. “Is this the old man? In the child’s body? I would rather have the little one, but I’m not going to complain. Torture is torture, no matter who the victim is!”

Tyrian pouted momentarily, but ended up with a twisted, horrifying smile on his face.

Oscar shivered as Tyrian slunk closer, not letting himself turn away from whatever he was about to witness. 

He looked down, disassociated and floating away from his body, to see Oz’s,  _ his _ , face set in a determined line, glaring at the scorpion faunus in front of him.

Together, they braced themselves for what was to come as Tyrian walked up and unlocked their cell, humming happily. He turned and shut the door behind him.

“I just can’t wait to get to know each other,” he sing-songed, hands clasped together. He stalked closer, slowly pulling a knife from his belt, his tail waving menacingly behind him.

Tyrian Callows grinned, and stood over Oz, who was still glaring up at his tormentor in defiance. Tyrian, just like Cinder, straddled his hips, to get closer, to inflict more pain. He traced the tip of the knife along the crevacises of his victim’s body, delighting as Oz tensed. Oscar watched the exchange with wide eyes, wishing it wasn’t happening.

Tyrian pressed a little harder, and blood spouted from a shallow cut on Oz’s collarbone. At the sight of blood, Tyrian made a pleased sound, and dragged the knife down a little further, a little deeper. Oz hissed at the pain, unable to do anything to stop it from where he was pinned to the floor. Tyrian made several more cuts, seemingly at random, on Oscar’s body, each one deeper than the last. Oscar found a small part of him hoping that they would bleed to death, that this nightmare would all be over today.

Tyrian hummed happily and licked the blood off of the blade. He grabbed Oscar’s left hand, which had long since been stripped of its glove, and, in a flash, took his knife and  _ sliced _ . Oz screamed, briefly, and Oscar looked on in horror, his pinkie finger having been cut off at the second knuckle. In this state, he couldn’t really feel the pain, but seeing his body mutilated, knowing that Oz was feeling it in his place, made him feel sick.

Of course, his tormentor didn’t stop there. He simply moved down one more knuckle, and cut off another section of finger. He intended to draw this process out, and smirked as Oz made another pained noise.

He hummed and moved on to the next finger over. Oz’s eyes went wide in a short moment of visible panic, when he realized that the faunus was mutilating his fingers one by one. This time, Tyrian dug the tip of the knife under the fingernail of Oscar’s ring finger, and started applying pressure. Oz grimaced, desperately trying to hold back another scream as Tyrian took his sweet time, very slowly removing the fingernail from its bed.

Oz screamed in pain as blood spouted from their finger. There was so much blood. It was starting to pool under their hand, and Oscar felt ill. Ozpin was in so much pain.

_ “Please… let me take over. I can’t watch this,” _ Oscar whispered.

“No. This isn’t your burden to bear. You shouldn’t be put through this,” Oz responded.

_ “But you shouldn’t either _ ,” Oscar whimpered, growing more horrified by the second.

“I won’t let you take over.”

Tyrian’s eye lit up, “Aw, can I see the little boy now?”

“Never,” Oz responded, his paling face set in determination once again.

“Well in that case,” Tyrian pouted and cut off the entire remainder of their ring finger in a quick motion, rage flickering over his face. 

Oz’s cry of agony was heartbreaking, and Oscar found himself on the brink of tears just listening. He couldn’t let this go much longer.

Tyrian snarled, anger seeming to overtake him. He grabbed another knife from his belt, holding one in each hand now. He started slicing erratically, making a myriad of cuts and shallow stab wounds all along Oscar’s torso. Oz’s breath was starting to become shallow, and there were tears on his face.

Oscar couldn’t watch any longer. In a moment of protectiveness that he was sure he would soon regret, he reached into his body and  _ shoved _ Oz out of the way. In a moment, he was present in his body, and he was in more pain than he had ever been. He screamed in agony, suddenly feeling every slice, every stab, every place his blood was leaking out of his body.

“ _ No! _ ” Oz shouted, but was too weak to replace his protege. 

Tyrian suddenly calmed, as if aware that it was Oscar that was there, now. He smiled, and leaned down to lick the tears off of Oscar’s face. Oscar would have been disgusted, but he had bigger problems, and didn’t have the brain power to spare for anything that wasn’t excruciating pain. 

“Hello little boy,” he purred.

With much more restraint, Oscar’s torturer took a knife and sliced Oscar’s right sleeve up the arm, exposing his bicep. Tyrian leaned down, and Oscar couldn’t see what he was doing, but felt a slow, agonizing pain in his arm. It dragged on, deep and painful. Tyrian was humming again, and the sharp, stabbing pains refused to cease. Oscar was sure he was crying now, and he was definitely whimpering. He wasn’t sure how he was still breathing, at this point.

_ “Let me take back over, _ ” Oz said.

“No,” Oscar responded, stubborn as ever.

After what Oscar was certain was actually an eternity, the pain in his right upper arm stopped being made actively worse. He looked down, panting, and saw the word  _ Salem _ carved into his skin.

Tyrian smiled at his work. “It’s my tribute to our goddess,” he said. 

Oscar was sure he would care, eventually, that he had been marked this way, but he was hurting too badly to give a damn. He grimaced in pain. Everything hurt.

“Wha- you don’t  _ like it _ ?” Tyrian asked, incredulously. 

Oscar just squinted at him, and felt fresh tears leak from his eyes, his body shaking with sobs.

He shouldn’t have forgotten who he was dealing with.

Tyrian roared, outraged that Oscar didn’t want to be marked with the name of the embodiment of evil, and, suddenly, a knife was headed towards Oscar’s face. 

The knife slashed through his right eye, and Oscar  _ screamed _ , louder than he had before. It hurt. It hurt so badly. He was dying. There was so much blood. He couldn’t  _ see _ . His eye was gone. He grabbed at his eye socket- which no longer held an intact eye- with his right hand, and sobbed harder, drowning in an unending sea of agony.

He was vaguely aware of Oz taking over again. He was vaguely aware that he received some basic medical attention to keep him alive. He was vaguely aware of his aura healing him. He was vaguely aware of screaming, of a girl’s voice, of a flash of red.

All he knew was that everything hurt.

****

He had no idea how much time had passed, or what had happened, but he was back in his body, and everything was  _ pain _ . He couldn’t see out of his right eye. When he tried to poke at it, it was… definitely not eye-shaped. He was missing a couple of fingers on his left hand, and he was lying in a very large pool of dried blood. His chest was covered in cuts and wounds, probably accelerated in the healing process by his aura, which was hopefully replenishing itself. 

He groaned as he tried to move. He didn’t end up getting very far, but managed to slowly rotate onto his side. Not that it was remotely helpful.

“Oscar?” a voice hiccuped. 

“Oz?” he wheezed.

No, not Oz. It was a girl’s voice. His mind was hazy. The puzzle pieces weren’t fitting. Maybe it was Salem? No, that wouldn’t make sense. He thought there was a green-haired girl, somewhere, but he couldn’t remember her name.

“Oscar? It’s me. It’s Ruby.”

“R-Ruby?” He croaked. “How?”

“They… they got me too,” she said, sadly.

No. This… this couldn’t be real. The green-haired girl, her semblance, it allowed her to make people see things that weren’t there. He thought he saw a flash of green outside of his cell, but he wasn’t sure.

“You- you can’t be here,” he whispered, trying to crane his neck from his spot on the floor.

He finally saw her face, peering at him from between the bars in the cell next to his.

“Oscar! What did they do to you?” she cried, looking at him with a horrified expression on her face.

He was sure he was a sight. Covered in burns, bruises, cuts, missing fingers, missing an eye, probably dying in every way imaginable.

“A lot,” was all he got out.

“At least- at least we’re here together?” she offered, looking for a bright spot in their predicament.

He smiled slightly at that. Leave it to Ruby to always find a bright side. His smile faded, though, as he realized she would be tortured, too. She was stuck in this horrible cell in this hellscape with no way out. They would both be stuck there, now, being tortured for the remainders of what he was sure would be their very long lives.

_ Unless _ , his mind thought traitorously,  _ they have no reason to keep her alive _ . 

They needed Oscar alive. Every moment he was in their capture was more time that Oz wasn’t out in the world, plotting against them. But  _ Ruby _ …

He stifled a small sob at the thought. But maybe it would be better that way. Better for her to die than to be tortured for eternity.

“How-how did they capture you?” he asked, his voice hoarse from dehydration and pain.

She grimaced at that. “Oh… you know… Salem attacked Atlas…”

“She did?” His eye grew wide, “Is everyone okay? What happened?”

Her face dropped, tears forming in her eyes as she leaned against the bars, “It was a nightmare. Everyone- they’re all- they’re all gone.”

Oscar felt his heart drop out of his chest. “No. No. Please tell me it isn’t true.”

She didn’t respond. She just turned away and curled into a ball.

Everyone… all of his friends… everyone he cared about… they were all dead. Atlas was in ruins. Everything he had worked so hard for was in shambles. It almost felt fitting, that everything would fall apart like this. Of course it happened this way.

He felt numb. Broken. The light was gone. He felt cold and dark and hollow. There was nothing left.

*****

When Salem walked into the dungeon, he felt nothing. He stared at her, empty and cold, his heart an abyss that could swallow the world.

Until she walked over to Ruby’s cell.

He felt his heart rate spike, his emotions thrust back into his chest. She was going to hurt Ruby.  _ She was going to hurt Ruby. _

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a shock of green hair, but it barely registered. He didn’t care who else was here. She was going to hurt Ruby.

Salem walked to the door of Ruby’s cell, the picture of poise, a gentle simple on her face. With a flick of her hand, the door opened, and Oscar felt his heart stop.  _ She was going to hurt Ruby _ . 

Salem smirked and raised an eyebrow as she approached the girl curled in the corner of her cell.

“Little silver-eyed warrior,” she purred, “there aren’t many of you left.”

Ruby looked up at Salem, her face determined, as she looked up at the evil in front of her.

“I don’t care what happens to me,” she said, “But we will  _ never _ stop fighting. You will lose, in the end.”

Those were her last words.

Salem simply smiled, and thrust her hand into the center of Ruby’s chest. Ruby gasped in pain, and her heart was ripped from her chest.

Ruby Rose collapsed, all life gone from her body.

She was gone.

She was  _ gone _ .

_ Ruby was gone. _

Oscar screamed. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Her dead body was imprinted in his brain.  _ Ruby Rose was dead _ .

A sob was torn from his battered throat, and something was growing  _ brighter _ , but he didn’t  _ care _ , because Ruby was dead.

Suddenly, a blast of green light exploded across his vision, and he felt his body falling through space, the floor underneath him gone. He landed softly, cushioned by some force that he had never felt before.

He opened his eye, expecting to see Ruby’s body, to see Salem, to see his miserable little cell.

That wasn’t what he saw.

_ Well, Oz _ , he thought,  _ looks like we’re not in Evernight anymore. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time travel time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're just joining us, here's the gist: Oscar was kidnapped by Salem and crew and horribly tortured. He lost his right eye, some of his left hand, and is covered in injuries and scars. Additionally, he watched Ruby from the original timeline die (was it just an illusion? I'm not telling)  
> And now it's an actual time travel story! Enjoy!

The first thing he noticed was that it was bright.  _ Too bright _ . And he was pretty sure he could hear screams, but  _ that  _ wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. When he looked up, he felt his heart stop. His one good eye latched onto silver. 

_ Her  _ eyes.

_ Ruby’s _ eyes.

The girl, who looked exactly like Ruby, knelt down next to him. “Are you okay?” she asked, reaching for him.

Oscar gasped and scrambled backwards. This couldn’t be Ruby. He just saw Ruby  _ die _ . This was Salem. She was playing with him, messing with his head, trying to break his soul. This had to be Emerald’s semblance. Ruby wasn’t here, she was dead on the floor. Oscar wasn’t wherever this was either, he had to still be in his cell. 

“Get away from me, you  _ bitch _ ,” he rasped, voice still raw from all of his screaming. 

Ruby flinched back, stricken, and he momentarily felt grief, but this wasn’t Ruby, this was Salem. He just had to remember, or he would lose himself in this illusion, he would lose his sanity and his heart with it.

“I  _ hate you _ ,” he hissed at Not-Ruby.

She just looked confused and a little sad.

But Salem could wear whatever look on Ruby’s face that she wanted. It wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t let her break him. Not after what she had done to Ruby, done to everyone.

He finally took a moment to look around at whatever bizarre illusion he had been thrust into. It was a little strange, trying to get used to only being able to see half of everything, but it looked like he was on a stage of some sort. He found he barely cared about his surroundings, he was still hurting too badly; emotionally and physically. But there seemed to be a crowd, staring at him. That was definitely strange. He finally swiveled his head around, just enough to see a little more on his right side, and he found himself thrown to see the rest of team RWBY. They looked… different, and he felt a little like he had missed a step going down the stairs when he glanced at them. And next to them, in front of a microphone, stood a very familiar-looking man, with gray hair, small glasses, a green suit, and was  _ that… Ozpin’s cane? _

Whatever. It was irrelevant, because this weird illusion thing that looked like Ozpin was  _ approaching him _ , and whoever this was was going to torment him while wearing the face of the voice in his head… he had to escape.

_ “Oscar, wait,”  _ the Oz in his head started to say, but Oscar shoved that voice down, his eyes tunneling on the corridor leading off the stage behind Not-Ozpin.  _ There it was. An escape! _ Even if it wasn’t a real exit, which it probably wasn’t, he had to try. He couldn’t just sit here and wait for more pain. 

Oscar hissed as he pushed himself up into a crouch, and everything hurt so much he almost gave up right there. His aura had healed him enough that he wasn’t about to die immediately, but after taking so much physical abuse, he definitely needed medical help. But he didn’t care because this might be an illusion but that might be a  _ real escape _ , right in front of him.

So he braced himself, pushed to his feet, and started running.

He managed to avoid the illusion-Ozpin, just barely, but probably because the fake was surprised that he managed to run.

Oscar was hit with a brief flash of surprise when he didn’t find himself slamming into the wall of his cell, but it barely registered, because he just had to get  _ out, out, out _ . He just kept running, and running, taking a whole bunch of twists and turns he vaguely recognized but barely noticed, barely able to stay on his feet, registering almost nothing.

There was no rhyme or reason to anywhere he went, and he took random staircases and turns, desperately hoping to get away from the people he knew were pursuing him.

Eventually, he stopped, falling to his knees in a random alcove. He couldn’t keep running, he couldn’t stay on his feet any longer. His body was giving out, too abused and overwhelmed. It took him a moment, but he realized it was silent. There were no footsteps, no one was coming after him. He breathed a sigh of relief, then looked down and noticed that he had opened some of his wounds. A lot of them, actually. He was covered in fresh blood.

He cursed. It would be so easy for them to track him, especially if he left a trail of blood behind him. Maybe that’s what this was. Maybe they let him escape, and then his torturers were going to hunt him throughout the castle, like some twisted game of hide-and-seek.

He whimpered and curled up into a ball. There would be no escape from this hell, and he was foolish to even try. Now he was just exhausted and in more pain than he started with. At least he was barely conscious anymore. Maybe he would die before they found him, and he could reincarnate. 

_ “Oscar, _ ” Oz finally spoke again, no longer pushed aside by Oscar’s panic, “ _ I don’t think this is an illusion. I actually don’t think we’re in Evernight anymore. In fact, this kind of looks a lot like Beacon.” _

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Oscar whispered, “how would we have possibly gotten to Beacon?”

“ _ Perhaps it is your semblance,”  _ Ozpin said. “ _ But if my suspicions are right, and we are at Beacon, I think you should try to get some medical aid.” _

Oscar narrowed his eyes at the voice in his head. He didn’t know much about semblances, but he didn’t think it would be possible for one to teleport him from Salem’s Castle to Beacon. Also, Beacon wasn’t even  _ standing _ anymore. Nothing was making sense. His thoughts were starting to feel muggy, and he was starting to think this was all a weird dream. He was probably back in his cell. This wasn’t really happening. Maybe his brain was just shutting down. Maybe he was dying. Maybe he was already dead?

No, that wasn’t right. None of those things sounded right. The only thing that made sense was that this was a dream. 

“Ugh,” Oscar said eloquently, his head aching from dehydration, from screaming, from everything that may-or-may-not be happening. He was so confused. “I’m just gonna lay here for a while,” he mumbled to Oz, slumping against the cool wall next to him.

_ “Look,”  _ sighed Oz, _ “if we are still in Evernight, they’ll capture us anyway. If we’re not, then we might be in a place where we can actually get help. You’ve found a good hiding place, but I think it might be best if we leave it, and try to find someone who can help.” _

“You make a good point. But I’m… so… tired,” Oscar barely managed to say, his eyes starting to slip closed.

“ _ Hm. Nope,” _ was all Ozpin said, before he took over Oscar’s body. He was instantly hit with a wave of pain and exhaustion, and cursed himself for letting that fall on Oscar. If nothing else, he was at least going to get them help, because he was  _ positive _ that that was himself that he saw. He didn’t know how it had happened, but they were somehow at Beacon Academy, before the Fall. He was starting to think he knew what Oscar’s semblance was, but that wouldn’t matter much if they never got up and succumbed to dehydration or their injuries before anything could happen. So he pushed Oscar’s body to its feet, and stumbled into a familiar hallway, leaning heavily on a wall the entire time. He pushed himself to a door, and painstakingly let his hand fall against the door. It barely made any noise, so he tried again, and again.

The door opened, eventually, to reveal a student with rabbit ears, who looked rather taken aback at the sight of the gravely injured child at her door, and he smiled slightly at her. “Please help,” he said, before promptly falling into her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I'm sorry guys, this probably wasn't my best chapter, but I was hitting a bit of a block and didn't know what to write. Oops! Also if y'all want you can follow me at kaylathebookwormwrites on tumblr for updates on fics and stuff :D!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so for the purposes of a timeline I made up a year because they never gave us what number year it was

When Oscar woke up, he was back in control. He was laying in a bed that was surrounded by medical equipment. The room was large and everything that he could see was in hues of white and blue with a curtain to his left. He was definitely in a medical facility of some kind.

He groaned as he tried to move. His aura was healing his injuries, but that didn’t mean that they had suddenly stopped hurting. His left hand was feeling weirdly numb and tingly, though.

He jumped when a woman’s voice said, “Oh good. He’s awake.”

His breath caught in his throat. Was it Salem? Was his escape just some kind of beautiful dream?

_ No _ , he reasoned with himself.  _ Salem’s voice doesn’t sound quite like that _ .

He hadn’t seen her. She was on his bad side. In fact, he hadn’t seen any of the people that he was currently in the room with.

He let out a shuddering breath, recognizing most of the people who were currently surrounding his bed. Thankfully, none of them were Salem, or any of her lackeys. But he certainly didn’t feel encouraged at the sight of James Ironwood, Qrow Branwen, Ozpin, and the woman who he didn’t recognize all looking at him with expressions ranging from disdain to open hostility.

Oscar cringed, and tried to sink into himself, but it’s not like there was anywhere for him to go. He could feel Oz’s presence in his mind, gently encouraging him.

“Well,” said Qrow, “got anything to say for yourself, pipsqueak?”

“Um,” said Oscar, “what’s happening?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“I, uh. No thanks?”

He could feel the weird looks they were all giving him, but ignorance is bliss, and he also didn’t have the slightest clue what was happening, and wasn’t sure he could make an accurate guess.

The woman-  _ Glynda Goodwitch _ Oz supplied, scoffed at his nonanswer. “You, young man, are going to tell us everything you know about Salem. And don’t try to escape. There will be no mercy for agents of Salem.”

“ _ Glynda _ .” Ozpin said, “Don’t scare the boy. He’s young, and he’s obviously been hurt by Salem. Perhaps he’s turned against her.”

“I-  _ wait _ . You think I’m working  _ with _ Salem? What on earth gave you  _ that _ idea?” Oscar stared, his jaw dropping in surprise. That was the craziest idea he had ever heard.  _ Him _ ? An agent of  _ Salem _ ?  _ Were these people out of their minds _ ?

The prospect was so ridiculous that he found himself laughing. And laughing. And laughing. He couldn’t stop. He had completely fallen into hysterics. 

“Young  _ man _ ,” came Ozpin’s voice, cutting into his laughter. “Are you trying to tell us that you are  _ not _ working with Salem?”

“Uh, yeah,” Oscar giggled. “I am probably one of the least likely people on this  _ planet _ to work with her. She and her people did all  _ this _ to me,” he said, gesturing at his whole body.

“And what reason do we have to believe you?” came a new voice.  _ Ironwood _ . “She marked you with her name. That certainly makes you look like one of hers.”

Oscar cringed as memories took over his mind.  _ Tyrian was on top of him, a knife digging into his arm, carving, mutilating, there was so much blood- _

_ “Oscar. Breathe.”  _ Oz’s voice reminded him.

Oscar tried to slow his breathing, but he still felt the urge to run, to fight. Absentmindedly, he reached up to rub his eye. It was wet with tears. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and realized that four sets of eyes were staring at him, still waiting for an answer. They did all look mildly uncomfortable, so, at least he had accomplished something.

“Well,” he started, “Salem didn’t do that. That was a fun present from Tyrian. And by fun I mean terrible. I did not enjoy being kidnapped and tortured by Salem. For lack of a better term, it sucked.”

“And why, exactly,” started Ozpin, “would an immortal being of darkness kidnap and torture a random child? What connection do you have with her?”

Oscar smirked. “Well, Professor _ Ozpin _ , that would be because I’m the next incarnation of  _ you _ , and I somehow ended up here, where and whenever this is. I’m not going to lie, I’m still on the fence about whether or not this is real. It could just be a hallucination.” 

“The  _ next _ incarnation?” asked Ironwood, “You can’t be. The  _ current _ incarnation is right here. There can’t possibly be two at once.”

“As far as I can tell, it was either magic, or my semblance. I don’t know. I think this might be a different version of reality, or another timeline, because… well, Beacon fell, and Ozpin fell with it, but this looks a lot like Beacon, and Ozpin is right here, and this honestly doesn’t make any sense. And I’m starting to get seriously stressed out. What’s happening?” Oscar’s chest was tight, and his breathing was starting to come in panicked gasps.

_ “Breathe. In, and out. And in, and out,”  _ Oz directed. Oscar breathed, feeling overwhelmed.

“How do we know that this isn’t just a trick?” Glynda asked.

Oscar sighed. “ _ Okay, Oz. Your turn. I can’t keep doing this.” _

Oz took over, and Oscar let himself fade into the background. He could  _ not _ keep this up. Besides, if anybody could convince Ozpin of Oscar’s identity, it would probably be himself.

“I promise you,” said Oz, “Oscar is telling the truth.”

“This could be a trick. Tell us something only Ozpin would know,” Qrow demanded.

“Hm. My predecessor designed and built these schools in order to both train hunters and to, more importantly, hide the relics.”

“Salem would also know that. I’m not convinced,” Ironwood growled.

Oz huffed a laugh at that. “Always the pessimist, James. But alright,” Oz waved the former version of himself over, and leaned to whisper in his ear, “the relic of knowledge has been used once in this era.”

Ozpin straightened, pensive, before nodding. “It’s me, alright. No one else should know that.”

“Well, what did he  _ say _ ?” asked Qrow.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ozpin said with a dismissive wave, “it was a personal secret. I trust him.”

The others all frowned, but didn’t question what Ozpin said. 

No longer needed, Oz let Oscar take control again. He felt uncomfortable being the center of attention, with no one trusting him. It reminded him too much of the aftermath of the reveal to his friends that Ozpin had been hiding information about Salem from them. 

Shuddering, he took a moment to glance around, now that he wasn’t under direct scrutiny. The room was certainly familiar. It looked an awful lot like Oz’s memories of Beacon. It was starting to set in that he was actually at Beacon Academy, before the Fall. He could puzzle that out at some point.

“Hey, uh,” he started, all eyes immediately snapping back to him, “could someone tell me what the date is? Because I’m um, starting to really think that I may have time traveled. And-. And if I did, I want to make sure things turn out better this time around. We have to stop her, before she hurts anyone else.”

“What happened last time?” Glynda asked, a severe expression on her face.

Oscar let out a long, slow breath, “What didn’t happen? It was… it was really bad. To be honest, I’m not sure about everything, I wasn’t exactly close to everything that happened, but between Oz and I, we should have most of the pieces. But basically, she went after Beacon, and then tried to go after Haven, and I think Atlas was going to be next. Look, could we talk about this when I’m not still in a hospital bed? There’s a lot of traumatizing stuff to cover. And I, uh, I also don’t know what point in time we’re currently at. That might help.”

“It is currently September of the year 4052,” said Oz. 

“Okay. We have until the Vytal Festival, so I think eight or nine months,” Oscar slumped back against the pillows in relief. 

Oscar moved to put his face in his hands and froze. He knew that the feeling in his left hand had been off, and Tyrian had cut off a few of his fingers, so that was expected, but… the bandaging on that hand looked a little short. In fact, it looked like he didn’t even  _ have _ a hand.

“Can I just ask,” he said, a little shaken, “what… what happened to my hand? Last I checked I sort of had one.”

“Ah,” Ozpin said, not unkindly, “According to the doctor, your injuries on that hand became infected. They had to remove the hand. I know it’s a little jarring, but worry not. We can get you a prosthetic. I know that this has been an awful lot to take in. We’ll let you rest now.”

“Thank you,” Oscar said in a small voice. This was going to be rough, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also sorry for the month between updates idk what consistency is apparently  
> alsoooo lmao my writing sucks and i don't know how to fix it but i will be inflicting my trash on the rest of you


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I made a mistake in the last chapter; there should be less than a year until the Vytal Festival, closer to 8 or 9 months. So I'm gonna say that he time traveled to like September before the Fall (I don't actually know when their school year starts, so I'm going off of real life for this. Love y'all!

The next time Oscar woke, there was no one else in the room. Sunlight streamed in through a window, and he guessed it was late afternoon. He had no idea how much time had passed since he had had that  _ interesting _ conversation with Professor Ozpin (the living version) and his secret society. Had it been a few hours? A few days? Was time even real anymore? It certainly didn’t feel like it. This time travel thing was hurting his brain. What was happening in Atlas? Were his friends okay? Did everything actually fall apart there? Was that actually Ruby that had appeared in the dungeon with him, or was it just an illusion? Was there another version, a younger version of Oscar running around in this timeline? What would happen if he ran into his younger self? Could he even put a stop to Salem’s plans? If he changed things in this timeline, would the other one still exist?

He wasn’t sure how many of these questions he would ever get answers to. Probably none of them. Hopefully he would at least be able to stop Salem, though, or interfere with her plans. He had an opportunity here, a chance to make things better this time around. And he had the immortal wizard in his head to help him out, to fill in the blanks with information that he didn’t know. It would all be okay this time. It had to be. He wasn’t sure what he would do if things fell apart again. Probably cry. Maybe light some things on fire. You know, normal coping mechanism for the destruction of the world.

Oz hummed in disapproval at that. “ _ Please don’t light things on fire. Unless it’s Salem. _ ”

Oscar smirked, “I would love to set Salem on fire. Do you think she’s flammable?”

Their conversation about the flammability of an evil immortal being was interrupted at the sound of a door opening. A few moments later, the curtain that divided Oscar from the rest of what was presumably the medical wing was pushed aside, and Professor Ozpin walked through.

“Oh, good,” Ozpin smiled gently, “you’re awake. I was hoping to speak to you.”

“Sure,” Oscar replied. “But before we talk, could I get some food and water? Also, is there a bathroom anywhere?”

“Of course. The restroom is down the hall and to the left. I’ll ask for some food for you.”

“Great,” Oscar said, pushing himself up from the bed for the first time since he had found himself in it, and immediately found himself on the floor. His legs had completely fallen asleep, which he should have expected, but he didn’t, and now he had to pull himself off of the floor. Now that he had gotten up, he was aware of just how much he had to pee. Great.

“Would you like a hand?” Professor Ozpin asked, scrunching his eyebrows in concern at Oscar’s very pathetic struggle.

“Yeah,” Oscar sighed, letting the professor grab his only hand and pull him to his feet. His feet were unsteady beneath him, and he let Ozpin lead him to the wall, which he was able to use for support. “Thanks,” he breathed.

Ozpin cocked his head. “Will you be okay from here?”

Oscar nodded. He would have been embarrassed at someone seeing him so weak, but he had lived with Ozpin in his head for months now, which had significantly raised his threshold for embarrassment. Besides, this was kind of the same person that he had become so familiar with, so he could more comfortably let his guard down around him than other people.

“Well,” the corporeal version of Ozpin said, “if you’re alright, I can go see what food I can find for you. We can meet back at your bed in the hospital wing.”

Oscar nodded again and they split up. Oscar thanked his lucky stars for walls. They were great for when your legs didn’t want to work and your depth perception was seriously screwed up by having only one eye. But canes were better. Speaking of, he was now missing his. It had been lost somewhere over Atlas, which kind of sucked. 

After he had used the restroom, Oscar walked over to the sink and stared. He had one hand, and one bandaged stump. Washing his hands was going to be a momentous task. He used his hand to turn the water on and stuck it under the stream, and then squeezed some soap from the pump on the wall. Then he swore. He made a fist several times and rubbed his fingers together, grimacing. Trying to wash one hand was incredibly difficult. 

Giving up, Oscar rinsed his hand off and did a terrible job of drying it with a paper towel. He felt tears start to burn in his  _ singular _ eye, and promptly stumbled into a wall. He crumpled against it and slid to the floor. This was a nightmare. Pieces of him were  _ missing _ , and there was no way to get them back. He was going to have to learn how to live with this for the  _ rest _ of his life.

“ _ Breathe, _ ” said Oz, “ _ It’s okay to grieve. You can’t get your eye back, or your hand. At least not the originals. We can get you prosthetics. But this loss doesn’t define you. It hurts, and it will require some adjustments; you will have to get used to this. But this doesn’t have to stop you. You can keep fighting. Despite our setbacks, despite our limitations, whatever life throws at us, we keep moving forward.” _

Oscar sniffed. “Are you- are you quoting Ruby?”

“ _ Maybe,” _ Oz said slyly.

“Okay,” Oscar breathed. “Keep moving forward. I can do that. Just… just one step at a time.”

“ _ Exactly.” _

Oscar blinked at the sight of a person in front of him. It was Professor Ozpin, which was a little bit of whiplash, considering that he had just heard the same voice speaking in his head. He wasn’t sure, but he thought that the two voices had spoken at the same time. He giggled.

“Now,” said the version of Ozpin that was crouched in front of him, “let’s get back to the medical wing. I think that you could use some food. It might help. I also have a lighter topic to discuss with you, if you’re up for it.”

Oscar followed him back to the medical wing, wiping the remaining tears from his face. These emotions were starting to get really annoying. Stupid trauma.

When they returned to the infirmary, Oscar sat down on the bed, and Professor Ozpin offered him a tray of food. The food was actually good, so he guessed it was probably from Beacon’s cafeteria, and wasn’t the kind of food that you normally get in hospitals, which was generally terrible.

Oscar inhaled the food and chugged the water he was given at speeds that were probably unhealthy, but he had kind of missed food while he was in Salem’s castle, and it was nice to have an actual meal for once.

He looked up once he was most of the way through his sandwich, and blinked at the amused expression that Ozpin was giving him. Oscar took a moment to stick out his tongue at the old man, and then went back to eating.

Ozpin chuckled. “I take it you’ve eaten enough to have a conversation?”

Oscar mumbled his assent as he shoved the last of his sandwich in his mouth.

The professor waited for Oscar to finish chewing before he started talking. It would be very unfortunate if Oscar started choking before anything actually exciting happened.

“Alright,” Ozpin started, “well, given that the school year is soon beginning, and you will, presumably, be staying here at Beacon to assist in foiling Salem’s plans, I was thinking that you could attend classes here at Beacon, and be an unofficial student. You wouldn’t be part of a team, perse, but I have a spare room that you could stay in. What do you think?”

Oscar blinked. “I-I hadn’t honestly thought about what I was going to do next. Everything was kind of… sudden and unexpected. But yeah, I think that might be a good plan! I’ve always been homeschooled, though. Will I be able to keep up?”

Ozpin chuckled. “It’s okay if you can’t. It’s really just to give you something to do. You are young, and the less you have to be out there, fighting, the better. Besides, if things end up as badly as it seems they did in your other timeline, I have a feeling it won’t matter all that much.

“And,” he continued, “if you truly are the next incarnation, then you’ll have gained some of my muscle memory, but, I’m sure there’s room to improve.”

“Uh, yeah. About that,” Oscar rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I kind of… lost Long Memory. I dropped it when Salem kidnapped me. It should be somewhere in the tundra of Atlas in another timeline? And I’m assuming that I can’t use yours…”

“Don’t worry, Oscar. We can get you another weapon. We have weapons available, and you can also make your own, if you would like. Ideally, I won’t die anytime soon, but eventually you’ll inherit Long Memory again.”

“Cool. So what do I do now?” Oscar asked.

“Well, you seem alright to get out of the infirmary, so I could show you to your room, if you would like. Additionally, we could take a trip to the weapons department, and maybe start creating a timeline of events. Then, we can work from there. Also, I’m assuming you’ll want some clothing at some point, since yours was pretty destroyed, but you can wear the Beacon uniform until then if that would be easier,” Ozpin said.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can handle that,” Oscar nodded.


	10. Chapter 10

Oscar followed Professor Ozpin as he began walking to the headmaster’s rooms. Apparently, the faculty lived here, which Oscar shouldn’t have found surprising, given that it  _ is _ a boarding school. But still, he had been homeschooled all of his life, and his only experience with a combat school was the short amount of time that he had spent in Atlas. Unless, of course, he were to count Oz’s experiences, which he didn’t. They were still separate people, and it’s not like they were constantly sharing their brainwaves and memories. Oscar still wasn’t sure how it all worked, and at the moment, ignorance felt a lot like bliss.

He sighed, shaking himself out of his own thoughts. He was glad, at least, that Oz had stayed silent and hadn’t given him the answers he wasn’t currently looking for.

As they walked, Ozpin broke the silence. “Just so you know, General Ironwood contacted a friend of his in Atlas to make you a prosthetic hand.”

“Oh really? Is it Dr. Polendina? He’s really nice. Also, I thought Ironwood didn’t trust me. Why would he help me?” Oscar responded.

“I believe that it  _ is _ Dr. Polendina,” Ozpin replied, giving him a bit of a strange look. “And James agreed to help you because I asked him to. If you can truly help us, then this is the least that we could do. Also, how do you know Dr. Polendina?”

Oscar blinked for a moment, surprised by the kind gesture. “Oh- well thank you. A lot,” he felt his eyes start to tear up. People tended to overlook him, and the fact that people actually wanted to do something for him meant a lot. Everything that had been done for him in the last several months of his life had just been because of Oz, and even though this was also because of Oz, it still felt  _ different _ . Probably because it felt like Ozpin saw him as his own person. Probably because they shared a curse.

“I met Dr. Polendina in Atlas. His daughter Penny is really cool, too,” he continued.

Ozpin raised an eyebrow, “I wasn’t aware that he had a daughter.”

Oscar smirked. “Well, you can’t know  _ everything, _ old man. I think I would be more surprised if you  _ did _ know. In my experience with him, James was a man who liked to keep his cards close to his chest, kind of like you, actually. Although Atlas kind of sucks. It’s pretty openly discriminatory towards faunus, there’s a  _ lot _ of inequality between Mantle and Atlas, and a lot of the people there are just… weirdly mean. It’s also really cold. As far as cities go, I’m not sure it could really be said that Atlas is a shining city held to a higher standard, even though you wanted it to be,” Oscar tapped his fingers against his thigh, lost in thought. 

He looked up and blinked rapidly, realizing he had gone on a tangent. “Oh… did I get distracted? What was I talking about again?”

Ozpin smiled down at him. “I agree. I definitely think that Atlas has some… room for improvement.”

Oscar rolled his eye. “How  _ diplomatic _ of you.”

“Well,” Ozpin hummed, “not  _ all _ of us can be sassy teenagers. Ah, here we are,” he finished, stopping at a door and taking out his scroll to unlock it.

Oscar opened his mouth to protest, but completely forgot what he meant to say when the door was opened. 

Oscar honestly wasn’t sure what he was expecting the headmaster’s room to look like. Could he have looked through Oz’s memories? Sure. But it would have felt a bit like an invasion of privacy, and he really preferred to keep their minds separate, anyway.

Walking into the room gave him a sense of nostalgia and familiarity, despite the fact that he hadn’t actually seen it before with his own eye. (It still felt weird getting used to seeing things with only half of his field of vision, and it was a little dizzying to try to take in his surroundings.)

The rooms opened into a kitchen that had dark wooden cabinets and a small cute table in the middle. There were a couple of rooms that branched off through a small hallway. Oscar kept walking, and it looked like there was a bathroom on the right and two bedrooms on the left. Everything had a dark green color scheme, which he found hilarious. It was all pretty understated, but it was still really nice. It was very different from his farmhouse, and even from Atlas Academy, where everything had a white and blue color scheme and was incredibly impersonal. This was so much better. 

Oscar grinned at the Professor as he looked around. “I like it,” he said.

Ozpin smiled slightly. “Well, that’s what I was going for. Your bedroom is going to be the second one on the left.”

The room was nice, but plain. There was a twin bed with a dark green cover against a wall, with a dresser and a closet. The floor was hardwood, and there was nothing on the walls but a single window. Oscar didn’t mind that it wasn’t exactly decorated, all he needed was a place to sleep.

_ “Exactly how I remember it,” _ Oz stated, somewhat wistfully.

“Thanks, Ozpin,” he said, walking back out to the hallway where the Professor stood.

“Would you like to take a look at the weapons department?” Ozpin asked.

“Sure! Do they have any canes?” Oscar asked.

“I’m not certain, but we can certainly take a look. If not, they aren’t too difficult to make.”

“Yeah,” Oscar giggled, “Using Long Memory was a lot like hitting people with a stick. A retractable stick.” He hummed to himself. “Maybe I could just go outside and get a stick!” He started walking, but stopped when Ozpin put a hand on his shoulder.

Ozpin smirked. “It's not exactly the most complicated of weapons. But it’s been at my side for many lifetimes, and I could never bear to part with it.” A wistful look fell over his face as he looked over his weapon. “Come on, let’s head to the weapons department.”

As they walked, Oscar kept his head down, just in case they ran into any students. He wasn’t ready to face all the questions that would inevitably be had about who he was and how he got there, and what had happened to him.

They passed a lot of people in the hallways, students who had nothing in particular to do since classes didn’t start until the next day. Luckily, none of them spoke to Oscar or Professor Ozpin, just gave them curious looks.

They had to leave the building in order to get to the weapons department, which was in another area of the campus. Oscar found himself surprised by how warm it was. The last time he had been outside anywhere was in the tundra surrounding Atlas, and it had been freezing there. He knew, theoretically, that he was on another continent, in another  _ year _ , in a different version of reality, but there was a difference between knowing something logically and experiencing it.

Time travel was weird.

Before they had even gotten anywhere significant, Oscar was feeling exhausted, like he couldn’t take another step. Apparently, torture is difficult to recover from.

“Can we… slow down,” he panted, feeling like it was taking way too much energy to walk on his own.

Ozpin grimaced. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have made you do this.”

“No it’s.. It’s okay. Could I just borrow our cane for a little bit?”

“Are you certain? How about this. We rest on that bench to the left for a few minutes, and when you’re feeling better, we can continue. If you refuse to acknowledge your limits, eventually you’ll destroy yourself. We aren’t machines, after all,” Ozpin said.

Oscar sighed. “Yeah. I guess that sounds good. I just hate feeling useless.”

As they sat down, Ozpin looked at him quizzically. “I promise that you aren’t useless. Being human, having limits, needing to rest; these things do not make someone useless. If someone else were in your position and couldn’t push themself endlessly, would you tell them that they were being useless?”

“I… no,” Oscar said.

Ozpin raised an eyebrow at him and leaned back against the bench. 

Oscar took a shaky breath. “Look… are you sure that you want to know about what happened, what’s going to happen? Because once you know, there’s no going back. And from what I saw from your memories, and from the broadcast… it’s pretty dark. Some of the things that I saw too…

“We can’t stop her. And if we foil her plans, then I, or well I guess more accurately  _ we _ won’t know what’s going to happen next. Our knowledge of what’s going to happen will only last so long as we don’t change anything. And just my  _ being here _ changes things. I don’t know what we’re going to do. And I’m scared. I don’t know if I can stand to just sit here and wait for her to enact her plans, but I don’t have all of the information, and if certain things don’t happen, who’s to say that everything that was supposed to follow won’t change? What if we can’t stop the Fall? What will happen then?”

The voice in his head was quiet, waiting for the other version to respond first.

“Well,” Ozpin said. “That was a lot. And I can’t tell you what’s going to happen, as I can’t see the future. But what I  _ do _ know is that all we can do is take this one step at a time. It’s alright to be scared, but that fear in and of itself won’t accomplish anything. All we can ever do is take the next step, to keep moving forward, to try to make a better world. And I can’t promise you that we’ll succeed, but what I can promise you is that we’re going to try. Now take a breath. We can’t fix everything right now. So breathe.”

“Okay. I’m breathing. I think I’m ready to get a weapon now,” Oscar replied.

Ozpin nodded and handed him Long Memory. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

Oscar followed Ozpin the rest of the way at a gentle pace until they entered another building. Oscar hadn’t actually known that Beacon had multiple buildings, but he had never thought to ask Oz about it. The weapons department was  _ huge _ . It made sense, given that it was a combat school, and students were probably constantly upgrading their weapons or designing new ones. There were workshop tables everywhere, and it looked like there might be something akin to a blacksmith’s workshop in the back.

There were a lot of students in the weapons workshop, using various tools on their weapons, probably updating them or giving them a tune-up before the start of the semester. There were a couple of people walking around supervising, either teachers or teaching assistants or both. And it was incredibly loud. Oscar blinked and turned to Professor Ozpin. He had no idea where to go from here or what to do next.

He followed the Professor as he walked past the workshop and into an office. The person sitting at the desk looked up when they entered. They had a shock of purple hair, and were wearing a dark outfit with various belts, all filled with various tools that would be helpful in working on weapons.

“Ah, Professor Ozpin, what can I do for you?” they asked.

“Well, Professor Verde, Oscar here is in need of a weapon.” Ozpin gestured for Oscar to step forward.

“Um,” Oscar said, not expecting to be put on the spot, “I was looking for something similar to Professor Ozpin’s weapon? Is there something I could use?”

“Yup!” said Professor Verde, an excited look on their face. “We have a whole collection of weapons that students can use. You can borrow one temporarily, or can make it your own! All at no cost to the student, of course. Right this way!”

Oscar and Professor Ozpin followed Professor Verde into yet another room, which was filled wall-to-wall with various weapons. Oscar felt his jaw drop. He had never seen this much weaponry in his life.

“So, my young friend, you said you’re looking for something like what Ozpin’s got. Do you want a retractable cane? Would you like to add any blades? Any guns? Any dust capabilities? We have plenty of ammo!” The smile on Verde’s face was blinding. They were clearly very excited by their work. He had a feeling that they would get along great with Ruby.

“I don’t think I need any blades or guns on it. Just something that I can beat grimm with. And if I could use it as an actual cane that would be cool. I’m kind of… recovering from some injuries…”

“Alright, gotcha,” the Professor said, grabbing something from the corner. “Well, we’ve got this one,” they said, brandishing a weapon.

The weapon was plain, plainer than Ozpin’s, which was fine with Oscar. The wood was a light brown color, with a plain black handle grip towards the top. In addition, it curved at the top, in the shape of a walking cane. He could use it as both a weapon  _ and _ a walking aid when injured.

“It’s perfect,” he said. “And you said I can keep this?”

“Absolutely,” Professor Verde chirped. “And if you want to add anything to it, just come on by, and I’ll be happy to help. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” they said, extracting a pair of gloves and some goggles from their toolbelt, “I’ve got some work to do. See ya, Professor!” 

Verde walked towards the room that all of the students had been in with a cheery wave.

“ I think I’ll call it Short-Term Memory,” Oscar grinned. “So,” he said, smile faltering, as he turned to Professor Ozpin, “I take it now we get to have a conversation about the future?”


	11. Chapter 11

They headed back to the Headmaster’s Quarters for their inevitable discussion about the future. Honestly, Oscar didn’t know all that much about the events that took place at Beacon, since he hadn’t  _ been  _ there, so he figured that Oz could just take over. It  _ would _ be really funny, though, to watch the two versions of Ozpin talking to each other.

They sat at the kitchen table, and Oscar collapsed into his chair. Being a person was exhausting, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders was exhausting, dealing with the after-effects of torture was exhausting. And they hadn’t even gotten to the hard part yet. Eventually, no matter what changed, he would have to fight this war. He really wasn’t looking forward to it, not after what happened last time.

“Alright,” said the professor, not unkindly, “So. What do you know?”

Oscar shrugged and let Oz take over, feeling himself shift to the back of his own mind. On the bright side, Oscar probably wouldn’t have to do much of anything, since the goal was to prevent the Fall of Beacon, and thus everything that came after would hopefully be irrelevant.

Oz started speaking. “Well, last time around, everything began to fall apart after Amber was attacked. I know for a fact that this event has already occurred based on the timelines, but I can give you the names of the people who attacked her, which we found out later. Their names were Cinder Fall, Mercury Black, and Emerald Sustrai.”

Oscar thought it was kind of funny that Professor Ozpin was taking notes, but it was also a smart move, because nobody could possibly remember all of this information, and he would need to share it with his inner circle.

Oz continued, “There was an incident towards the end of this semester, in November, involving Roman Torchwick, the White Fang, and a group of students. It was later revealed that Roman Torchwick and the White Fang are working as underlings for Cinder Fall, who is an agent of Salem’s. In January, there was another incident, with the same group of students, and the same bad actors, although there were several new enemies involved. This took place during the first year-student’s huntsman shadowing trips, although it appeared to have been an operation in place for a while beforehand. They utilised the train system under Mountain Glenn, where they had set up their camp. They started the train, set off bombs periodically, and crashed the train into the city of Vale, drawing a massive amount of Grimm. The students were unable to stop them, and there was destruction in the city.

“Cinder Fall, Mercury Black, and Emerald Sustrai had arrived at Beacon sometime in late December, and were posing as students from Haven. Unfortunately, Leo was fully aware of this, and has been under Salem’s direction for a long while. It is difficult to hear, but he is no longer an agent that can be trusted. These ‘students’, specifically Cinder Fall, are also responsible for inserting a virus into Beacon’s system, which allowed them to hack both Beacon’s security and Atlas’. They did this during the student dance, which took place just before the first-year student assignments.” Oz sighed. “And yes, I am aware that I may be describing these events slightly out of order, but I’m sure you can follow along.”

He paused before continuing. “Everything came to a peak during the Vytal Festival. Towards the end of the festival, Beacon fell. It began after a fight between Yang Xiao-Long and Mercury Black, which I believed Cinder Fall had orchestrated. Immediately following the fight, Miss Xiao-Long attacked Mr. Black, saying that she had seen him attack her, which was likely due to Emerald Sustri’s Semblance, which allows her to make people see and hear things that do not exist. This event shocked people greatly, but was not the catalyst for The Fall. That occurred when a fight was orchestrated between Pyrrha Nikos and Penny Polendina, who is a synthetic human with the ability to hold an aura. She was created by Atlas, and though she is as human as anyone else, she is also made of metal. 

“We believe, but could never be certain of the fact, that Miss Sustrai used her semblance again, on Miss Nikos. In the fight, Penny was torn apart when Miss Nikos used her semblance and caused Penny’s weapons to wrap around her. This event was horrifying, and was broadcasted across the world. Immediately following this, Cinder Fall took control of the broadcasting system, she prevented the broadcast from being shut down, and she began a speech, about how people shouldn’t trust those in power, about how children were being trained to kill each other, about how those of us controlling the schools weren’t trying to protect the people. In tandem with this, the White Fang, under Cinder Fall’s direction, released Grimm into the school. Atlas’ army, which James had brought to the festival against better judgement, was hacked, and began to turn against those fighting the Grimm. In addition, Grimm were attracted to the city of panicking people, and came in greater numbers.

“Students fought, and some perished in the battle. I, myself, took the student Pyrrha Nikos and went to the Vault, where Amber was being kept, in an attempt to transfer the Fall Maiden powers to her. During the process, we were found by Cinder Fall, who killed Amber and took the remainder of the power. I told Pyrrha to leave, and I fought Miss Fall, but I perished in the fight. Miss Nikos, it seems, tried to fight her soon after, and failed, too. The city was in shambles, global communications were destroyed, and many died that night. 

“The only bright side was that Salem’s group was unable to find the Relic of Choice. Any questions?” Oz deflated, his speech over with.

Ozpin looked shocked and overwhelmed, his mouth hanging open slightly. He blinked several times and pulled himself together. “I will have to discuss these events with the rest of my circle, and hopefully we can avoid them this time around. Thank you.”

Oz gave up control suddenly, and Oscar felt himself thrown back into his body, still reeling from all of the information that he had just learned. “I… I didn’t know most of that,” he whispered, slightly shell-shocked.

Professor Ozpin cocked his head. “You didn’t?”

“Nope. Never asked. Didn’t want to bring up something traumatic,” Oscar shivered.

Ozpin nodded. “I understand. Would you like to go get some dinner with me? If you would like, you may start classes tomorrow, but that decision is entirely up to you. I will not force you to do anything, but I do very much appreciate your help in all of this.”

Oscar smirked. “It’s really  _ your _ help, you know. And sure, dinner sounds great.” He stood up and immediately bumped into the table, blinking his eye and shaking his head. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to not having his full field of vision. Maybe he would get a prosthetic eye at some point, but not today.

He followed Professor Ozpin to the dining hall, using his new weapon as a cane. 

Good thing it was also an actual cane.

“So Ozpin,” Oscar asked as they walked, “why didn’t we just cook something? Wasn’t that a kitchen we were just sitting in?”

“Well, even school headmasters who also have an immortal wizard in their head get lazy sometimes. I also thought I would show you to the dining hall so you could eat there, because I’m pretty sure you never got a tour of the school.” He held up his hands defensively, “And yes, I know that I am also in  _ your _ head, and you could just ask your own voice, or even check my memories, but I thought that it would be more fun to actually show you.”

Oscar smiled at that. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re- wait, what?”

“Oh look!” Oscar said. “We’re here! I’ll go get a table!”

Ozpin followed him over to one of the smaller tables. “Wait, did you really just call me Dad?”

“Sorry, can’t talk, gotta go get food!” Oscar turned and walked away, laughing to himself.

As Oscar walked over to the buffet line, he stumbled as he got hit with a sense of deja vu. Not only was he thrown from the similarity of his time in Atlas, but his head found memories of standing in this same spot, getting food here in another lifetime.

“Are you alright?” Oz asked, approaching him, a look of concern on his face.

“Yup, I’m good!” Oscar said, blinking rapidly and tapping his forehead. “Just… you know, deja vu. Fun, huh? So what’s good here?”

Ozpin raised his eyebrows, still worried, but didn’t dwell on it. “Well, I usually like the pasta, but everything here is pretty good.”

“Aw sweet!” Oscar took his tray and filled it up with everything that he could. He would need nutrients if he was going to attend classes, and train, and prepare for this damn fight against Salem. At least he had more time to prepare than he did last time. That might help. And now they knew what was coming, so he might be okay. Maybe if they stopped her, he wouldn’t have to fight in this lifetime at all!

But on the other hand, his luck probably wasn’t that good. And either way, he would be absorbed into the Oz conglomerate at some point anyway, hopefully after he died, rather than before. So Oscar would be stuck fighting her in some capacity either way. Yay for him.

Oscar scowled at his plate, and stabbed a grape violently, wishing that it was Salem.

Ozpin sighed. “Really. Are you alright?” he asked.

Oscar groaned. “No! I keep trying to have hope, but then I think about how impossible it all is. This sucks! How do  _ you _ deal with this?”

“Well, I try to take it one step at a time, usually. Dwelling on everything all the time will just make you miserable. We just have to face both the present and the future to the best of our ability. But I do know what you mean. It’s certainly difficult to shoulder, sometimes. But all we can do is try.” Ozpin said quietly.

The voice in Oscar’s head hummed in agreement.

Oscar let his head droop. Okay. He could handle this. One step at a time. 

The room was slowly filling with people, primarily students, as the clock inched closer to dinnertime. Oscar found himself recognizing colors, outfits, faces. There were people that looked vaguely familiar, and he couldn’t remember if he had seen them in the Vytal Festival, or if he was just getting glimpses of Oz’s memories. He ducked his head when he thought he saw Jaune. He knew that no one  _ he _ knew would recognize him, but he wasn’t ready to suddenly have to interact with a version of his friends that didn’t remember him at all.

Oscar jolted as four students sat down at the table with him and Professor Ozpin. He squinted, vaguely recognizing them, and also incredibly confused about why they would decide to sit with their professor. He figured most students would be too intimidated to do so.

One of the students was a girl with aviator glasses, pale skin, and an incredibly fashionable outfit, another was an unassuming-looking girl with long brown hair and rabbit ears, the third student had dark skin, red hair, and white eyes, along with a red color scheme, and the final student was large and somewhat intimidating with short, dark hair and a green outfit.

_ “That’s team CFVY.” _ Oz supplied.

The girl with the sunglasses put her elbow on the professor’s shoulder. “Hi Professor Ozpin!” she said cheerily.

Oscar thought it was a bit of a bold move. Professor Ozpin looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Hello Miss Adel. Can I help you?”

“Sure! We wanted to sit with you,” the girl said as she and the rest of the team seated themselves at the table, not even waiting for Ozpin to respond.

Oscar giggled at them. Were all of the students at Beacon this unorthodox?

“And who might you be?” One of the other students asked. 

“I’m Oscar Pine!” Oscar said with a wave.

The student returned the wave. “I’m Yatsuhashi Daichi.

“Oh!” the other girl piped up. “I thought you looked familiar! You look much better when you aren’t covered in blood.”

Oscar blinked. “Um. Thank… you?”

“Sorry! That was a bit rude of me. I’m Velvet Scarlatina!”

“How do you know Professor Ozpin?” the first girl- who Ozpin had called Miss Adel- asked Oscar, turning to him and lowering her glasses.

“Uh. I’m, um. We’re kind of… related? I’m staying with him.” Oscar stumbled through his response, only realizing that he should have figured out a response to this question ahead of time far too late.

She turned her gaze to Professor Ozpin. “Professor! You never told us that you had a  _ son _ . How could you hide this from your favorite students?”

Ozpin looked amused. “Well, it never came up.” He turned towards Oscar. “Oscar, this is Coco Adel, and that is Fox Alistair,” he said, motioning towards the final student sitting at their table.

Fox grinned at him and waved. “Always nice to see new people,” he said.

Everyone else smirked at that, and it took Oscar a second to realize that he was blind.

“Oh,” he responded, then suddenly realized Fox might have advice. “Hey, how do you deal with not being able to see? Because I kind of… recently lost one of my eyes, and it’s been a little hard to adjust.” Oscar cringed as he realized that that might not be an appropriate thing to ask. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, that was rude, please forgive me.”

Fox smirked and cocked his head. “It’s fine, I’ve heard worse, no problems here. To tell you the truth, I’ve been blind my whole life, so it might be a bit difficult for me to help you, but I am able to use aura to get a bit of the picture around me, and I have an assistive device when fighting that feeds me information on anyone I may be in combat with. But for what it’s worth, that sounds like it sucks.”

Oscar grinned back at him. “And how do  _ you  _ guys know Professor Ozpin? You seem more comfortable around him than I expected students to be.”

“Well,” Coco said, “we  _ are _ the superstar team of our year. Best in our class.” She leaned closer to him, across the table and stage-whispered, “And we’re Ozpin’s favorite.”

Ozpin narrowed his eyes at her. “I do not have favorites.”

Oscar thought about team STRQ, and teams RWBY and JNPR and grinned. “You totally have favorites,” he said.

Ozpin looked miffed. He raised his hand to his chest in mock offense. “How could you… my own flesh and blood… accuse me…” he said dramatically.

Oscar giggled, and team CFVY joined him.

“Well, I  _ do _ hope that you’re ready for your classes tomorrow. No slacking off,” Ozpin said to the team of students.

“We’re going to totally  _ ace _ syllabus week,” Fox said in response.

Oscar hid a grin. He wasn’t entirely sure what syllabus week  _ was _ , given that he had always been homeschooled, but the older kids looked pretty confident.

“You’d better,” Ozpin admonished them, pointing his finger at Fox.

Velvet laughed at him. “Oh, Professor! Is Oscar going to be taking classes? Can we hang out with him? He’s so cute!”

Oscar blushed. Why on Remnant did everyone call him cute?!

Ozpin smiled and raised an eyebrow.“I gave Oscar permission to take first-year classes, but it’s entirely up to him if he wants to take them or if he wants to hang out with you.”

Oscar blinked as all eyes turned to him (well, except Fox’s). “Yeah, sure,” he smiled “You guys seem cool.”

“Heck yeah!” said Fox, holding up a hand for a high-five. 

“Well, students, I know it’s been a very long day for me, and I need some rest before the start of the semester. I’m sure Oscar does too, and so do the rest of you,” Ozpin said, standing up and grabbing his tray. He stacked Oscar’s tray on his, too, so Oscar didn’t have to try to carry his cane and his tray. Oscar smiled at him in gratitude.

Oscar followed Professor Ozpin back to their rooms, determined to make tomorrow a good day. He was going to take classes, and train, and make friends, and one day beat Salem. He would make this a new beginning. It was going to be better this time around. Oscar was going to make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sry for the short break! My bad. Hope you liked this chapter!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for a panic attack in the beginning part of the chapter

Everything was burning.  _ Oscar  _ was burning. He was covered in flames and he was screaming, and screaming, but no one seemed to hear him. The fire just grew higher, and he was choking on smoke, and he was  _ dying _ -

And suddenly the scene changed, and he was surrounded- by Salem and all of her subordinates, and they were going to hurt him  _ again _ , and his fear was suffocating him, and there was no way out, none at all and-

Oscar bolted awake in bed, gasping. He slapped at his skin, still tingling from the feeling of flames before realizing that there was nothing there. It was all a dream. But it felt more like a memory, it felt way too real to be just a dream.

“Oz,” he whispered, “is that how one of you died?”

“ _Yes._ ” The voice in his head winced. “ _During the Fall of Beacon, I was killed by Cinder Fall. I burned to death. It was horribly unpleasant, and I’m afraid that that was my memory._ _I’m sorry_.”

“Wait, so- that happened  _ here _ ?” Oscar asked, aghast.

Oz hummed in assent.

Oscar shuddered. He had memories of dying,  _ burning to death _ , in the very place he slept. It was unnerving at best, and his breath became stilted and uneven. His sheets were damp from the dream, and he was coated with an uncomfortable layer of sweat. The darkness felt almost solid, and he could sense the weight of it pressing in on him. Oscar reached to turn on the light and realized he was shaking

He had to get out of there, he had to move, or the fire would catch him, devouring him in this lifetime as sure as it had destroyed his predecessor. Oscar was certain he could smell smoke, and everything had a hazy sheen. 

“ _ It was just a nightmare, Oscar. You aren’t dying. There is no fire here. Please, take a deep breath. It’s okay. _ ”

“Uh-huh. Nightmare,” Oscar muttered. “I-I can’t be here,” he said, stumbling into the hallway.

“ _ Please calm down. No need to do anything rash. It was  _ just  _ a bad dream, _ ” Oz said, concern lacing his voice.

“I just need some air,” Oscar breathed, heart pounding in his chest, the walls  _ too close _ . He didn’t even bother to grab his shoes before grappling for the doorknob and exiting the room, pushing himself into the hallway.

“ _ Um, Oscar, _ ” Oz started, but Oscar hushed him and kept moving. That didn’t do much to quiet the growing feeling of concern in the back of his mind, though. Oscar tried to shove it down, to ignore the feeling that wasn’t his mixing with his own anxiety, but couldn’t manage to silence any of the disquiet in his mind.

He kept moving, stumbling and tripping over his feet, running as fast as he could. He has to get out of the building, he couldn’t be here, there was too much death and too many bad memories for this time of night. 

Following a familiar route, one that a subconscious part of his mind knew from memory, Oscar burst out through the front entrance and into the cold night air. He took a deep breath, and let the chill settle into his lungs. It felt good, refreshing- and the fire of his nightmares faded away. It couldn’t find him in the open air, the flames couldn’t live in the cold. 

He started walking, away from the main building, away from the scene of a tragedy yet to pass, away from the weight of the future that lay on his shoulders. Oscar had been walking for about ten minutes when he realized how incredibly stupid he was being. The cool air that had at first felt good was starting to feel like a layer of ice covering his body. He shivered and began to seriously regret not wearing shoes or socks. His feet were freezing, his toes burning from the cold paving stones of the path.

Pajamas were not proper clothing for chilly nights. Technically it was still the end of summer, but it was irritatingly- and unusually- cold. Oscar activated his aura, mind cleared. His nightmare had faded, and he felt present, grounded in whatever reality he was currently in. He turned around, and headed back towards the school. He wasn’t sure that he could go back to sleep, but he had at least calmed down enough to no longer be in a state of panic.

The hallways were blissfully empty when Oscar stepped back inside. The quiet was almost eerie, reminiscent of circumstances he would rather not remember. But that didn’t matter. This was a different reality, and the things he remembered wouldn’t come to pass.

“Hey Oz?” he asked. “Could you share some happier memories of Beacon with me? All of this negativity is kind of messing with me.”

“ _ Sure. I would love to. But I think we currently have a problem, given that you do not have a scroll, and thus will be unable to get back into the room _ ,” Oz responded.

Oscar froze in the middle of the hallway, slapping his hand to his face. “I can’t believe I forgot that!” he muttered to himself.

Oz became amused. “ _ I did try to warn you. _ ”

Oscar huffed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I can just knock, right? If not, then, well- I’ve had worse problems. Oh! Or I could try using my semblance again. It worked once.”

“ _ I’m sure you can just knock _ .”

Oscar grinned. “ _ Or _ I could use some of that magic that I know you have. You know, break down the door.”

Oz sighed. “ _ Please minimize destruction of property. I’m certain that the other version of me will let you back into the apartment. _ ”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Oscar scoffed, a smile on his face. He took the stairs to the staff wing and approached the door, knocking hesitantly. Professor Goodwitch was right next door, and she would not appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night.

He knocked again when he got no response. Oscar waited a few moments before hearing the rush of hurried footsteps.

“ _ I was always a bit of a light sleeper _ ,” Oz mused.

The door opened to Professor Ozpin, whose serious expression melted off of his face into one of relief at the sight of Oscar. “Ah, it’s just you,” Ozpin said. 

“Wait,” he continued, freezing, his expression growing concerned again. “Where were you at three in the morning? Are you okay?”

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I-I just went for a walk. I was having nightmares.”

The Professor sighed and rubbed his face. “Alright. Just please, put on shoes next time. And we can try to get you a scroll tomorrow, so that you can actually come and go,” he said, slumping in exhaustion. “Are you feeling any better? Do you think that you would be able to get some sleep? You might want to, especially if you still want to try going to classes tomorrow.”

“Yeah, the cold air helped,” Oscar replied. “Do you have any tea? I’ve found that it tends to help me sleep after nightmares.”

Ozpin smiled gently. “Of course. I’ll go put the water on. Make yourself comfortable.”

Oscar sighed deeply and flopped down on the floor of the kitchen, spread out like a starfish. Ozpin looked at him, eyebrow raised, but Oscar just looked back at him innocently. 

“What?” Oscar said. “I’m comfortable.”

“Sure,” Ozpin replied. Clearly this man had had plenty of experience with teenagers.

Oscar pushed himself to his feet and began checking the cupboards for tea. “Jackpot!” he whispered upon finding a whole stash of boxes of tea bags. Oscar found himself bemused as he kept pulling out boxes from the cabinet. He got to the tenth box of tea and started laughing uncontrollably. “Ho-how much tea do you  _ have _ ?” he asked, tears in his eyes.

Ozpin looked affronted. “This is a perfectly reasonable amount of tea,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“No it’s not! This is enough tea for like, the whole school!” Oscar giggled.

“ _ I agree with the sensible-looking man with the glasses _ ,” Oz said.

Oscar leaned against the counter, completely losing it. “Of course you agree with yourself!” he crowed. “Do you- do you have any green tea in this mess?”

Ozpin stared at him while pointing to the large box clearly labeled ‘green tea’ right in front of him. “Okay Mr. Court Jester, we’re gonna get you some tea and then you’re going back to sleep. You’re still growing, and you need all of the rest you can get,” he said somewhat sternly, a smile still ghosting his face.

Oscar stuck out his tongue at Ozpin before grabbing a couple of tea bags and placing them in mugs. Ozpin poured the water and they grabbed their tea, sitting at the table like the civilised people that they probably were.

“Hey, so, what classes will I be taking, anyway?” Oscar asked.

“The first year curriculum generally consists of Grimm studies, history, weapons, foraging, and combat studies. We could, I suppose, also sign you up for a military strategy class, because that may be helpful for you. On the other hand, you also have me in your head, so you technically have all of this knowledge. But it doesn’t hurt to learn it all yourself, as memories are fallible and will likely require refreshers between lifetimes,” Oz said.

“I think that I would like to try taking classes,” Oscar said, sipping from his tea and immediately regretting it as he burned his tongue. “It’ll give me something to do, and maybe let me feel like a normal kid, for once. I’m pretty sure spending all of my time worrying about events that haven’t happened yet would drive me completely insane.”

“Well if  _ that’s _ the case,” Ozpin started, a gleam in his eye, “then hurry up and get back to bed, because classes begin in less than five hours.”

“Hey. I used to get up at sunrise to work on the farm. I think I can handle starting my day at 8 a.m.,” Oscar said, rolling his eye.”

“Well, then I’ll hold you to that,” Ozpin narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’d better be able to get up in the morning.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Oscar said, holding up his hands in surrender. He quickly drained his tea and put his mug in the sink, rinsing it out. Stretching, Oscar walked into his bedroom and shut the door behind him, double-checking that his alarm was set for 6:00, so that he would be up in time to eat breakfast and head to class.

The next time Oscar woke up, his alarm was blaring next to his head. He fumbled with the off button for a minute, regretting not familiarizing himself with the clock beforehand. He finally managed to shut off his alarm, and he let out a breath. He hadn’t had any more nightmares in the past few hours, at least not that he remembered.

Oscar rubbed his eyes, rolling out of bed and grabbing a Beacon uniform that he found in his dresser. He frowned as he looked at it. He had no idea how to tie a tie. Oscar put on the uniform to the best of his ability, just leaving the tie to hang around his neck. He took his time brushing his teeth and washing his face, enjoying the feeling of the morning.

He glanced out the window at the sky, still a myriad of colors from the sunrise. It was Oscar’s favorite part of the day. Ozpin was already up, and was making a mug of something in the kitchen. Oscar walked in and made eye contact, winking smugly.

“Look at that!” Oscar said in mock surprise. “I’m awake!”

“So it would seem,” Ozpin said, taking a sip of his…  _ coffee with marshmallows _ ?

“Wait,” Oscar blinked, “is that hot chocolate? Don’t most people drink coffee this early in the morning?”

“What gave you the impression that I was most people?” Ozpin smirked.

“Huh. Good point.” Oscar grabbed a piece of bread and put it in the toaster. “Do I have a schedule or anything? Also I think I might need some school supplies.”

Ozpin nodded and walked into the other room, returning with a laminated slip of paper. “Here is your schedule. You have history at 8, followed by foraging, combat studies, a lunch break, and then weapons, Grimm studies, and military strategy. The room numbers are located next to the classes. I have some extra supplies, such as notebooks and pencils, which we can stop and grab before class starts. Additionally, you have a locker for your weapon, but I’m not certain that you’ll need to use it, given that your weapon is a cane. Hopefully, we can get you a prosthetic hand in the very near future, ideally within the next few weeks.”

“Sounds awesome! If a little nerve wracking,” Oscar muttered, munching on his toast.

“I’m fairly certain you can handle it,” Ozpin mused. “And if not, then it’s not actually a requirement that you take classes or do any work. You aren’t exactly a student here. You’ll be completely fine.”

“Alright. I’ve just gotta pretend to be a normal kid for once.”

“Well it would be helpful if you didn’t mention the war against Salem, or anything about her, or being a reincarnation, but otherwise you don’t need to pretend to be normal. None of the students here are normal people, Oscar. They’re a bunch of kids who decided to go to school to hunt monsters. I’m positive you’ll fit right in,” Ozpin said.

Oscar smiled. “Thanks.”

A few minutes later, Ozpin stretched and refilled his hot chocolate. “Alright, if you would like, we can head to my office. I do have quite a bit of paperwork to catch up on. Follow me, please. Oh, and I will make an effort to get a scroll to you by the end of the day.”

Oscar nodded and followed the headmaster to his office. The path was familiar, and so was the elevator to the top of the tower.

Once they got there, Ozpin handed him a plain black backpack as well as enough notebooks, one for each class, and a pencil case filled with pencils, pens, and erasers, as well as a couple of highlighters.

“You can ask your professors for a copy of any textbooks that you may need,” Professor Ozpin said, sitting down at his desk. “Oh, and Oscar, please let me fix your tie.”

Oscar walked over and let Ozpin use whatever fancy magic was involved to make his tie look like, well, a tie, and let him fix the buttons on the blazer, too. Oscar had had a pretty difficult time doing up the buttons one-handed, and some of his attempts had been unsuccessful.

When Ozpin seemed to think Oscar looked presentable, Oscar headed to the elevator, backpack on his back and cane in his hand.

“Oscar. One more thing! You are free to use all of the facilities on campus, including the library,” Ozpin shouted to him. 

Oscar grinned back at him. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Thankfully, the elevator was easy to operate while his only hand was occupied with his cane. Since he still had over an hour before his first class actually started, Oscar made his way to the cafeteria. It was fairly empty, but it appeared to be slowly filling with people. Oscar placed his backpack and cane at an empty table, and headed to the buffet line. There were way too many options, but in the end, Oscar grabbed a bowl of fruit and some oatmeal. School would require energy, right?

Oscar ate quickly, and left the cafeteria before it could fill up with students. He was still pretty nervous about his first real day of school, and he wasn’t sure if talking to a bunch of strangers would help.

It was barely 7:15 a.m. when Oscar walked towards history. There was no one else there, and the door was locked. He hoped that this was the right place, but he had no idea, and he felt his chest tighten with anxiety as he slumped to the floor next to the doorway.

_ “I promise you, this is the right room. You’re just incredibly early, _ ” Oz said, which calmed Oscar significantly.

Having absolutely nothing to do for the next forty-five minutes, and not trusting himself to go to the library, lest he get captivated by a book and miss all of his classes, Oscar took out an empty notebook and opened it to the first page. It was a perfect drawing space, if he ignored all of the lines.

Oscar started sketching, and thanked his lucky stars that he had lost his left hand, and not his right. That would have made things much more difficult for him, especially in fighting. He frowned as he looked down at his drawing. He hadn’t  _ intended _ to sketch Salem, but she was pretty ingrained in his memory.

He took a breath and flipped to a new page. A fresh start would help him. He started to draw Ruby, not how she had been in her final moments, but as he preferred to remember her, standing before a giant mech, fire in her eyes and face set with determination, ready to do something completely foolhardy to protect her friends, her family.

Thinking about his friends made him feel a lot better about the state of the world. Maybe he couldn’t kill Salem, but with people like team RWBY and team JNR on his side, he felt like they could win this war. Maybe he was a little too optimistic, but his friends were amazing, and strong, and brilliant, and formidable fighters. They could win this time around, he was sure.

Oscar jumped as a figure approached him, moving  _ much _ too quickly.

“Why hello there, Mr. Pine. I’m Dr. Oobleck, and I will be teaching the class History of Remnant. I’m glad to see you here so early and well-prepared. Come in!”

Oscar blinked as Dr. Oobleck dashed into the room in a blur. Who the heck had that much energy this early in the morning? Oscar put his drawing away and pushed to his feet, entering the very large lecture hall. Not knowing what to do, Oscar took a seat in the front row, pulling out a pencil and the same notebook as before, which he opened to a clean page.


	13. Chapter 13

Being a student was certainly an… interesting experience. Students filed into class after he had already been waiting for a while, a large number of them rushing in at the last minute, which Oscar found amusing. He could hear whispers as the others arrived, but he wasn’t sure if they were aimed at him or were just students having normal conversations before the start of class. Most of the other kids sat more in the back, and Oscar frowned when the lecture started and he hadn’t actually caught a glimpse of any of his friends. Oh well. The class was sure to be interesting, regardless. 

Dr. Oobleck was rather fast. Oscar could barely keep up. Actually, he couldn’t keep up. His hand cramped within a few minutes of writing notes, which wasn’t surprising, given that Oscar had minimal note-taking experience. The Professor spoke and moved  _ way _ faster than anyone had the right to, frequently taking sips from what could be assumed to be coffee.

Oscar furrowed his brow, missing most of the information. On the bright side, this didn’t actually have any stakes for him, so he had no reason to stress. He wasn’t a real student, and the school might end up destroyed anyway, so it didn’t matter if he could keep up. Besides, he was sure that Oz knew most of this information anyway.

He could feel Oz scoff indignantly in his mind, which was how he knew he had guessed correctly. History class would be a breeze when there was an immortal wizard in his head.

“ _ I will  _ not _ be helping you cheat on tests _ ,” Oz said.

Oscar attempted to level a pleading expression at him, which didn’t really work, because they were in the same body, and just resulted in Oscar sending disappointed feelings Oz’s way. He would have to stand in front of a mirror, later. No one could resist puppy eyes from an adorable kid, not even Oz.

“ _ I can tell what you’re thinking, and no _ .  _ Also, you just missed a whole five minutes of the lecture trying to think of reasons not to pay attention _ ,” Oz lectured. “ _ You’re right, this isn’t mandatory for you, and might be ultimately futile, but while you’re here, you might as well try to get what you can out of it. Or, you know, you could go back to the apartment and spend your days doing nothing. I would think this would be preferable. _ ”

Oscar mentally stuck his tongue out at Oz, and blinked, trying to actually focus on what Dr. Oobleck was saying. Something about the creation of the kingdoms. Oscar sighed, realizing that he would probably have to ask someone else for notes later. Weiss seemed like a good student, she was sure to know what was going on.

By the time class was over, Oscar was pretty sure his brain was melting out of his ears. He groaned and collapsed on the table as they were dismissed, seriously wondering how anyone did this. It was so different from being homeschooled, and it was just  _ so _ much information.

Oz was very obviously amused.

“I can hear you laughing at my suffering, old man,” Oscar muttered into the table, face still in his notebook.

“ _ Mm. This is certainly amusing, from my perspective. I forget how difficult it is to be a teenager. It’s been a few years, you know. Now, I think you have another class in a few minutes. You should probably get up,” _ Oz said.

Oscar sighed as he packed up his notebook, and painstakingly zipped his bag, which was difficult when the fabric kept pulling with the zipper. Eventually, he figured out how to steady it by using his left arm to press the bag to his chest to hold it steady, but it was still a nuisance. He got up, noticing that most of the class had already left, and filed out into the hallway. A large numberof people were standing around, and he guessed that they were either from the next class, or just stood there because they didn’t actually know where they were going.

Luckily for Oscar, he had a mental map of the school provided by the amalgamation of people he shared a head with, so he didn’t have that problem. He cut through the crowd, cane in hand, headed to foraging, which was sure to be an interesting class.

Suddenly, Oscar found himself on the ground, his feet pulled out from underneath him. He groaned in pain as he hit the floor. Shrieks of laughter followed from nearby, and he was pretty sure he had never been so confused in his life. Did someone just attack him? Should he fight them? Was this one of his many enemies, or was this just bullying?

He pushed himself back to his feet in irritation. Whatever had happened, Oscar had bigger problems, and he really couldn’t care less about a group of rude teenagers who liked to push people around.

_ “Hm. Once we figure out who that was, I should expel them,” _ Oz said. “ _ And I think I have a pretty good idea of the students involved. _ ”

Oscar giggled at that. “You really can’t do much to them from inside of my brain,” he muttered. “Maybe give me some tips on fighting them, but they probably wouldn’t accept expulsion from a kid.”

“ _ Perhaps. But there is another version of me in this timeline, I’m almost certain of it. _ ”

Oscar smirked. “Wow! You learn something new every day.”

He was interrupted from his conversation with his forced roommate by a voice. 

“Oh! Are you alright? Do you need help? I can’t believe those kids  _ did _ that to you! That was so awful!”

Oscar blinked, not expecting to be addressed, and definitely not expecting to be confronted with this timeline’s version of Ruby Rose. “Oh-Oh yeah I’m fine! Thanks for asking. Um, do you think that we should maybe get out of the middle of the hallway?”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “That’s a great idea. Oh, I’m Ruby by the way! Ruby Rose! I like your eyepatch! It looks really cool! It gives off like, really cool hunter vibes.”

Oscar laughed slightly, a sense of deja vu washing over him. It was weird to talk to Ruby again, a different version of her, but he supposed he would get used to it eventually. “Uh, thanks. I’m Oscar Pine. It’s nice to meet you, Ruby. Where are you headed?”

“I’m going to foraging with Professor Peach! Isn’t this all so exciting? Oh yeah, I meant to ask you, how did you even get here, anyway? You just kind of showed up in the middle of the initiation ceremony? Are you okay? It looked like you were in really bad shape. And are you like a student here now? Ahh I know I’m rambling, I just have so many questions!”

“I’m going to foraging, too!” Oscar said, shrugging off the rest of her questions. “And, uh. We should probably get going before we’re late. How about I answer your questions another time?”

“Ohh my gosh! You’re so right! We’re going to be late! Oh no- I can’t be late to  _ all  _ of my classes! It’s only the first day!” Ruby yelped. She grabbed a hold of Oscar’s arm and dashed off, dragging him behind her.

He just supposed he should count himself lucky that she didn’t burst into rose petals to get to class on time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was short and also bad! Maybe the next chapter will be better lmao


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :(

Hey guys! Thank you all so much for reading, but this fic has drawn a fair bit of criticism, and it has come to my attention that I've done a really bad job of depicting trauma (I already knew this, but some people have been very upset about it). As such, I'm probably going to be rewriting this fic.  
I'm very sorry about my terrible writing, but I hope you all have a great day!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :D!!!

Hey everyone! I'm really excited to announce that I've started version 2.0 of this fic! It's going to be titled And We'll Rewrite these Broken Songs, and I should be starting to post it fairly soon (like hopefully tomorrow). I'm going to be marking this fic as discontinued, as I'm rewriting it, but I can leave it up in you guys want me to.  
I'm really happy with how Broken Songs is turning out!!! I hope you all like it, too!  
Thank you all so much for reading, and I can't wait to share my writing with you again!! \\(*-*)/

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic! reviews are encouraged! have a lovely day!  
> (Also if you're confused about why this starts when it did and I didn't just follow Canon, I started writing this before v8 came out and I don't want to rewrite everything)


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